


Painstaking Growth

by lilac19822



Series: A Leaf in the Desert [2]
Category: Naruto
Genre: F/M, Falling In Love, Grief/Mourning, Sex, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-03
Updated: 2018-04-03
Packaged: 2019-04-17 22:25:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14198958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilac19822/pseuds/lilac19822
Summary: After much resistance, Temari has agreed to give her relationship with Shikamaru a shot. Being lovers, and shinobi, from different villages in a world on the precipice of war may prove more difficult than either ninja expected.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is canon-compliant, so there will be multiple references to events and storylines that take place on the show (I'll be honest and admit I have not read the manga).  
> As a disclaimer, I feel it important to point out for this chapter that I do not own Naruto, any of its characters or its plot line. That all is the creative work of Masashi Kishimoto.

With the wind blowing over my heated face, I let myself settle further into the cold sand that was recently stripped of its warmth by the descending nightfall.

Having arrived back to the Hidden Sand Village a few weeks ago, I found myself feeling as if I was stuck in a lull, even though the days that had passed since I last saw my Leaf nin had been alight with a flurry of preemptive activity, necessary for my position.

I realized how much my relationship with Shikamaru affected my life, despite the distance. Regardless of how busy I was in actuality, I was still irritated by a sense of stagnation simply because we were apart and it was difficult to move forward when we could barely see or spend time with one another. So it was as if we as a single unit were standing still, although I individually was hearing bits and pieces of what was happening in Konohagakure every so often and feeling the rush of a reaction quite poignantly.

The immediate and overwhelming rise of fear when I heard the Leaf village was attacked was as material as if I was jumping into the fray myself. I knew Shikamaru was an integral part of the Leaf's tactical team that created strategies, designed defensive and offensive operations, and, unfortunately, was a critical part of wartime planning.

As we worked to safeguard our own village, which kept my body busy, I mentally sifted through my pride of Shikamaru's genius to confront my genuine, gripping fear that he could get hurt, or worse, die. Sometimes I would go as far in self-torture as to make myself try to believe that he had so I could picture how I would respond ... I always like to have things measured as far in advance as I can – whether it is the distance between me and an enemy's trap or an emotional response to a life event. It helps me feel more in control. Which, of course, is a serious, and possibly even toxic, addiction of mine.

When I was alone at night I would let that fear dissipate. I would push my knowledge of the ongoing battle as far as I could into the darkest crevices of my mind and allow more sultry and comforting thoughts to fill the void. I rode on a wave of optimism, unnatural for me, that took me to a fantastical place, where Shikamaru was safe and we were together. Using bits and pieces of my erotic memories with him that I savored, I tried to imagine what it would be like to be with him again, just him and I, with our lips engaged in a passionate display of affection, our bodies intertwined on "our" hill at twilight in a world that rested quietly, not in fear but in peace.

As I lay in the cooling sand, nestled under the weight of a velvety warm night, I fought once more to return to that sacred place I kept safely and intimately locked behind protective bars. Step by step, I removed myself from reality. I tried to ignore the eerie hush that had befallen the Sand village.

A few days ago, my brother had issued a curfew, effective immediately. It was still early evening and tonight's curfew would not commence for a few more hours. That meant this sort of somber silence so early in the night was the byproduct of anxious villagers tucking themselves into their homes prematurely, irrationally scared to be out at night because they believed possibilities of danger are inherently tied to the engulfing shadows and forbidding blackness.

I tried to mute the clipped steps of guards standing watch over the village gate. The steps had multiplied in the past few weeks as more and more personnel got assigned to night watch duty. I had just finished a shift with my squad, which is why I now lay, tired and yet still on edge, in a safe place next to the wall surrounding Sunakagure.

I both relished and despised these few quiet moments to myself. I loved them because it was the only time I would allow myself to think of Shikamaru in the ways I most desire and subsequently, feel at least a little nearer to him. Yet simultaneously, they revealed just how much of an illusion that was and forced me to confront head-on the expanse of my loneliness for him.

Often I mentally envisioned a delightful image of just how gorgeous he looked laying naked in my bed with his lean but strong body mirroring mine and his teasing but welcome hands exploring new territory on my body in slow, intentional gestures. But every time, the picture was delectable and soothing for a mere instant, and then that deep, dull ache would invariably start to settle into the pit of my stomach and attack my senses with nauseating pain.

I had nowhere to go: thinking of him was torment, but not thinking of him was worse.

As soon as the Leaf was hit with the attack, the Sand village immediately began to make preemptive plans. Security had doubled; shinobi were being sent out on short-range searches of the circumference surrounding the village to keep an eye on any unusual circumstances; and my intense brother, the Kazekage, was now caught up in a degree of hypervigilance uncommon even for him.

My responsibilities as the diplomat had been tapered, as Gaara understandably didn't want to have me simply going by myself into a battle zone. Messenger birds were being relied upon heavily as the main form of communications between our two allied villages.

Meanwhile, Gaara had asked me to oversee the process of making sure we had squads prepared and fully trained in case the Hidden Leaf Village asked for assistance.

In between doing just that, I waited. Breathlessly at times. Quietly. Waited to devour any word from Konohagakure that came our way.

Last I'd heard, several groups of Leaf shinobi were sent on a mission that would inevitably tangle them in a confrontation with the two Akatsuki member who had entered the Land of Fire. Shikamaru was in one of them.

When Gaara had revealed that information during a briefing to the council, it took all my strength to not let me face show how much I wanted to vomit. However, I held it back, using my stomach muscles to press the bile back down where it belonged and my iron willpower to not utter anything revealing. I couldn't let Gaara or the other council members know that hearing about a certain Leaf chunin facing such imminent danger made me physically sick in a way that would instantly expose my inappropriate feelings. Instead, I handled the tidbit of information as I would if it involved any random ninja. After all, which Leaf ninja were involved wasn't really the part that mattered. What mattered is that they were seeking out the Akatsuki and that meant we were on the verge of something big coming to a head.

However, exiting the meeting, I had no choice but to rush away as quickly as possible, ducking into a vacant hallway where I could pace back and forth in solitude, trying to extract that feeling of horror and disgust. It was ridiculous and I knew it. I was a ninja. Shikamaru was a ninja. That meant we always would be in positions where injury, pain, and even death would be more present, possible, and even likely. It wasn't like this was news to me.

However, beside my brothers, I'd never loved someone like I did Shikamaru. I felt confused and frustrated having to figure out just how to deal with the helplessness of knowing he was in danger while I was hundreds of miles away, how to deal with wanting him so close but knowing duty required distance, and how to stop myself from becoming obsessed with trying to figure out how a life where we actually were together was even possible.

"Temari!" Kankuro's voice shot through the disturbing hush like a welcoming light beckoning me back to a reality I didn't mind encountering.

I sat up quickly and brushed away the sparkling white grains of sand thinly coating the back of my arm and legs. "Hey," I said with a slight smile. A small pool of uneasiness settled over my body as I took immediate note of the obvious tension in his face and the uneven jolts he was using to move toward me. I tried to squash it as I stood up.

"Temari..." He cut me off in a voice that was cold as steel - not cutting, but flat. However, it was so uncharacteristic of my normally emphatic and easy going brother that it shot me full of icy dread as I looked up at once.

"What?" I barely could hear myself over the rush of blood in my head and the beat of my heart that thumped in anticipation. A thousand guesses at what he could possibly have to tell me raced through my brain, some miniscule and insignificant, others ridiculous and dramatic...

"I was waiting for your shift to end to tell you ..." Having caught my attention, it now appeared he absolutely didn't want it. His eyes were stuck on my face not out of an actual desire to look me in the eyes, but pure strenuous control.

"What is it, Kankuro?" I urged.

"Asuma ...that's Shikamaru's sensei, right?" It was weird to hear Kankuro's voice so full of halting fear, his eyes touched with atypical sympathy.

"Yes, that's right." It was weird for me to act like that, too.

"... he ...," My brother swallowed, but kept his eyes pinned on mine, "he ... died ... "

My ears stopped working after that moment and all I heard were muffled sounds that seemed to be coming through a rag.

I was moving forward. My brother was following. Next thing I knew I was up in my room ripping through drawers and closets trying to get things put together in a knapsack to take with me to the Leaf village.

"Temari!" Kankuro's voice at last got through to me. My shoulders were tense and tight and only a small part of my neck moved as blood pumped through, causing my pulse to jolt up and down.

"What are you doing?" he continued.

I didn't bother to answer as I hastily put on my black leather gloves. There seemed to be no point. Words wasted time and wasn't it blatantly obvious? My hands moved mechanically until one of them was stopped by Kankuro's iron grip.

I tried to whip it away angrily but my confusing emotions were stunting my efficiency and I couldn't break loose. I looked up at my brother, my mouth set in a frown, twisted with pain. He looked back with unflinching eyes.

"Temari, stop. Slow down. What ... are you ... doing?"

This time I recognized he was asking more for my sake than for his own. And I knew why he urging me to pause and think this through.

"I have to go, Kankuro," I shot back, surprised by how even and resolute my voice sounded.

"Temari, I know you're concerned ... and upset, and I'm so sorry, but stop and think about this."

I didn't even take time to process what he was saying. My voice kept bubbling forth like liquid. "I'm going. I'm leaving for the Leaf. Now. I have to go. I have to see him ... and be there... I have to, Kankuro. I'm going ..."

Having tried to be soft and compassionate to no avail, Kankuro switched his approach.

"Yeah? You're just going to go? Right now?" He kept one grip on my wrist and ran the fingers of his other hand through his messy dark brown hair, all the while shaking his head and pricking me with his somewhat mocking voice. I knew he wasn't trying to tease me, just make me contemplate how ridiculous it would be to up and leave my village at this time with no good reason for doing so. "And what are you going to tell Gaara, Temari? What will you tell the security council? You know we're on standby right now. We're not making any moves without more information or a very good reason to do so. And it's not like you can just sneak out, be gone for a week, and expect no one to notice. You're a leader, for fuck's sake. You can't be this obtuse."

Damn him and his occasional atypical rationality! However, right now it wasn't something I could appreciate. I didn't want to hear him, or listen to him, and I didn't plan to.

"I'll figure something out. I can't not be there for him right now, Kankuro. You know that!"

I was still trying to stuff items into a black leather bag, but once again, Kankuro blocked my movements by catching my other wrist as well, forcing me to stop. Not wanting to go into a full-blown erratic mode, I looked him right in the face.

"Temari." His voice was hard, but I could tell from the softness of his eyes that he truly did understand the situation I was in. "There might be a point we will go to the Leaf. If they hold a memorial for Asuma, as I'm sure they will, it might be appropriate for you to go, but right now, you need to stop. You are not going to leave. You have to know that."

Hot tears had started to assault the back of my eyes. I could feel my lips quivering slightly. I didn't know if it was from anger or sadness or utter confusion. I continued to look up at my brother, but I had stopped seeing him. My eyesight blurred as I became consumed with trying to figure out what to do.

I had to go, right? I had to be there for Shikamaru. I couldn't leave him to suffer through this by himself. If I did, what would that say about me as a person claiming to love him completely? Unfortunately, what seemed to be the obvious answer led me right into a wall. I couldn't just leave my village right now to rush to a situation that I had no ability of helping from a utilitarian point of view, could I? I couldn't just disobey the Kazekage, regardless of whether or not he was my baby brother, could I? What would that say about me as a kunoichi?

I bitterly breathed a heavy but shaky sigh. I hated this ridiculous and seemingly unfair situation. Here was the very root of the problem with two shinobi, especially two from different villages, trying to be together. There would always be something, some problem. Never mind that it had taken weeks, some could argue years, for me to finally commit to having a relationship. I had just finished defeating myself to get to this point, and already some new problem, this time a much more horrendous one, was rearing its hideous head. And it hit me then in a maddening and sickening rush: It was unavoidable. Shikamaru and I likely would be spending months, maybe years, trying to balance and walk on a razor-thin line between two equally noble responsibilities that seemed intent on tipping us in their direction – or rather, ripping us down – in the most insulting and unfair ways.


	2. Worthless

In the end, my brother won. And I hated him for it. I knew I was moody and cross the next few days and I inadvertently blamed him for my frustration, as unjust and childish as that was. To be fair, I also was more thoroughly blaming the demon of an Akatsuki member who had killed Asuma. But he wasn't here and I couldn't be angry with him, or more fittingly, slice him to pieces with my fan. So instead, I sat trapped in smothering suffocation.

I felt hot and flustered and annoyed. As much as I enjoyed teasing Shikamaru for the sensitive side he would occasionally show and calling him "crybaby," the affectionate name with which I had donned him years ago, I had no problem admitting that his loyalty and compassion for others, especially his Leaf comrades, especially his  _sensei_ , were things I utterly adored about him. My heart ached just thinking of his pain, and especially his tears - they were too damn precious to be spilled.  _He_ was too damn precious to be put through something that would force those tears in the first place.

At last, the fever broke.

"... Finally, I want to inform you all that myself, Temari, and Kankuro will be leaving for the Hidden Leaf Village tomorrow morning. I don't expect we shall be gone more than a week," Gaara's voice was as rich and unemotional as ever as he wrapped up the briefing before the Sunagakure Council. "The village has suffered some tragic losses in the past few weeks, and I would like to offer my condolences in person."

My ears perked up, but I tried to maintain a completely straight face and stare stoically at my brother's fiery red hair, not daring to make any sort of eye contact with anyone less it should give me away.

"Lord Kazekage," ventured Isamane, one of the highest ranking and most platitudinous of my brother's advisers. He spoke with a stretched, snobby voice that often irritated his listeners as he dragged out their attention by uttering words in the same way a sludge oozes across a sidewalk. At least that was Kankuro's and my opinion. "Are you sure that is such a good idea at a time like this? I worry about the perception of your absence from the village, as well as your journey there. Who knows what will go wrong? And for what means? I hardly can condone this trip as valuable. I would strongly advise you against it."

_Shut the hell up, Isamane!_ I mentally screamed at him, commanding myself not to fix him with one of my damning glares. Instead, I continued to soak in the unruly crimson waves that splashed across my brother's pale forehead. _Just keep looking at Gaara's hair ... Gaara's hair ... is wavy ... and ... wow ... it really is red. Where did he get that from? Just keep looking ..._

"I understand your concern, Isamane," Gaara said coolly, before dropping his eyes to the table as he considered what the adviser had said.

And then, as if to make amends for having convinced me to stay in Suna instead of rushing to Shikamaru's side, I caught sight of Kankuro quickly glancing at me before chiming in, "With just the three of us, I'm sure there's a way we can make the journey without much notice being given. Besides, after all the Leaf has done for us, I think it is a good idea to give them support right now, even if it's just perceptively. They need to know we stand behind them 100 percent. I can hardly denounce this trip as invaluable. I would strongly advise for it."

I caught just a hint of mockery in his voice as he slightly mimicked Isamane's words and manner, and I stifled my laughter, glad no one else picked up on it. I wanted so badly to throw myself across the table and give my little brother a hug, but thought better of it and stayed put. However, his words gave me the courage to finally look into Gaara's face as he considered.

It was clear from the sour look on Isamane that he still didn't think this trip was prudent, or maybe he had just caught on that my brother was more flippant than presumed. He opened his mouth to once again express his doubts, but was cut off as Gaara's soft but commanding voice broke the momentary silence.

"I think I agree with Kankuro," he said. "We will not draw attention to ourselves. That should be an easy task with our small group. I'm not worried about being able to protect ourselves. And it would be good to show the Leaf we are serious about our commitment to them."

The matter was settled and everyone knew that. With not another word spoken, Gaara stood to his feet and began to move out of the conference room. Everyone followed, quite used to his unspoken directives at this point.

As we were leaving the meeting room, I felt Kankuro's hand grip my sleeve as he pulled me close to him and whispered playfully in my ear, "You're welcome."

 

* * *

 

Because we were trying to make our trip as compact as possible, we planned our arrival for the day of Asuma's funeral, entering the front gate of the village by mid-morning, just as the sun had plopped itself high in the azure sky to blaze down in an unfitting display of joviality.

Ignoring its cheery appearance, I began to breathe in the town. The sight of Konoha sent chills through my body.

I could feel my chest heaving as my heart seemed to be continuously blowing up and then being squished back down to its regular size by my intense anxiety.

When I caught a glimpse of the shadow possessor from behind as he leaned against a nearby wall, his traditional chunin garb swapped for entirely black pants and a black shirt, I thought I might actually explode.

His hands were settled in his pockets, but his body seemed tense, which in and of itself made me a bit alarmed. However, the sight of him was doing something far more tumultuous to my body. I tried desperately not to appraise the contours of his back and shoulders, his legs and sexy ass ... I immediately felt guilty for picturing him naked. That had to be a sin, right? To objectify someone who is grieving, who you are supposed to want to comfort, not fuck? I tried telling that to the torrid arousal making its way with languid strides through my veins. I chastised myself for not figuring out earlier how to respond to the inevitably unconventional nature of this meeting, with all of its different elements.

Shikamaru was surrounded by some of the other Leaf shinobi: Ino, Choji, Sakura, Naruto and Sai. Yet, somehow, he seemed secluded. I didn't know if that was a sort of weird perception I was experiencing because he stood out so distinctly in my mind, or if he really was distancing himself from them.

Gaara had left to speak with Lady Tsunade, so it was just Kankuro and I who approached the small group. I glanced up at my brother for support, but he seemed lost in his own thoughts. I followed his intense gaze to discover the object, and was surprised to see his eyes fixed upon a certain tall, blonde-haired, crystal blue-eyed kunoichi, who was talking freely but in a more sedated state than usual.

_Did he have ulterior motives for wanting to come?_  I pondered. _That sneaky little..._

That would be a topic of conversation for later, I determined, once again devouring all I could of Shikamaru's form. He was growing more and more life size as we approached closer and closer. I was curious how I even had time to question whether Kankuro had a romantic interest in Shikamaru's teammate ... that really was the least important thing right now. Perhaps I wasn't quite ready to accept or believe that I was finally getting to come face to face again with my _boyfriend_ \- my mind stumbled over the word - in the flesh.

And then there it was. Those sharp, brown eyes. Turned in my direction and looking right into my own. Although they always were revealing, for just a single instant they seemed to be stretching that definition to its limit. They were too revealing, too full, too broken into bits and pieces of widely varying emotions that clearly were making an agonizing task out of analyzing them for the Leaf genius. And then they shut off, as a lacquer of vacancy slipped over them

I could barely hear the greetings from the other ninja as I kept my gaze locked on Shikamaru up until the point where doing so would be crossing the line by societal standards.

"...We will hunt down every last member of the Akatsuki and beat them all!" Naruto said angrily, the emotional and well-intentioned blond-haired boy as riled up as ever. His fists were pumping into the air, his eyes flashing.

I saw Sakura grab his arm, calming him down and also non-verbally expressing that maybe no one wanted to talk about the Akatsuki right at this particular moment.

"It was thoughtful of you all to come," Ino said sweetly, her blue eyes slightly red and misted with tears ... and clearly looking more at the purple-striped face of my little brother than at me.

"I have read that it is a true act of friendship to visit those who are sad because they have lost something valuable," Sai agreed. We hadn't known that one very long, but I wasn't sure I'd ever quite figure him out.

"Shikamaru, don't you have anything to say to our guests?" Ino asked, grabbing his arm and pulling him forward. I stared with envy down at her pale fingers wrapped around his muscled forearm. How I wished it was I who could touch him so frivolously.

The Leaf chunin sighed at his female partner's habitual nagging and rolled his eyes. With automatic discomfort, I noticed something was off; it was just a hint of what I feared the most: detachment.

He sighed because he knew people expected it, because disinterest was his most identifiable trait, because no matter how "troublesome" he described everything to be, it didn't actually matter, because in the end he was more committed and loyal than anyone.

Shikamaru always was at least actively engaged in his disinterest, or did it because there were other things he cared about more. And even when he could care less about something, he would allow his sense of duty to perform tasks even when he did find them a "drag."

But this was different. It was as if we were looking at a curtain painted with all the things we expected of the Leaf chunin, but that was unmoving, unable to be touched and altered, and that carefully hid whatever was actually going on inside.

"It's nice to see you all," he said with a slight, but fake smile. "We really do appreciate the support of the Sand village in a time like this."

I wanted to slap him as hard as possible, to get him to act normal again. And not because I didn't like that he wasn't showing personal interest in me .. of course he wouldn't because he couldn't, and we had agreed no one was to know. That could not have mattered less. I just hated seeing him like this. So nonchalant, so fake, so unintentional, so thoughtless. It was clear Asuma's death had hit Shikamaru in a way he didn't intend and that he didn't quite know how to process. It broke my heart.

"Hell, I don't know what to say, guys ... I'm so sorry for your loss," Kankuro said sympathetically, pressing his hand gently on Ino's shoulder, but addressing all the Leaf shinobi in general.

Sakura shrugged and smiled through her obvious grief, "There's not much too say. We have to move forward and make sure his death, and those of the other courageous Leaf shinobi, are not meaningless."

"We will take down all the Akatsuki," Naruto cried again. "And Orochimaru, as well. All the people who have taken the lives of Konoha shinobi ... all the people who have taken away what is precious to the village. I promise ... And then we will bring back Sasuke ..."

My heart softened even more as I regarded Naruto carefully, realizing Asuma's death was painful for him in and of itself, but also because it reminded Naruto of other people he had lost who were dear to him. Although why, for the life of me, he had decided to care so thoroughly for Sasuke was beyond me. I had thought highly of the skilled raven-haired ninja when I first met him, but he seemed to be causing an awful lot of grief for Konohagakure, and I didn't like that.

My eyes passed over Shikamaru's face once more as the other ninja continued talking. He appeared to be listening, but he clearly was more consumed with his own thoughts, his brain miles away. I swallowed as my heart began to beat fast again.

_I need to get him alone,_  I thought with a sudden flash of urgency. _I just have to get him to talk. I have to help. I'm useless right now, and I will be unless I can get him alone._

I tried to think quickly and at once an idea came into my mind.

"Shikamaru, I hate to ask this of you right now, but I was wondering if you could possibly show me where the town's library is. I had some information I wanted to retrieve from the archives, and I don't know where that institution is," I was pleased with how professional and unwavering my voice sounded.

I expected his response of an exasperated sigh and the utterance of, "Sure. ... what a drag," but when he supplied those expressions, they were still just counterfeit versions. He was clearly keeping everyone, even me, at arm's length.

He started away from the group, and I followed, blood rushing to my head, though I wasn't sure if I was more excited or nervous.

I felt torn. When I had pictured what it would be like for Shikamaru and I to see each other again, this situation appeared nowhere in the scope of that image. I had thought we would be able to be in our "bubble" a little longer. That we could find a way to sneak away from prying eyes and indulge in more secret lovemaking and work on the romantic side of our relationship, still so new.

But just as tragedy strips away the innocence of a child, so had this tragedy destroyed the beautiful adolescence of our relationship. Tragedies forced immediate maturity, and that's where we found ourselves now.

I had kissed him but a few times, and now I was being deprived of that option as sexual touches, still fresh, new, and exciting to our budding relationship, had no place here and now. It felt like this tragedy already had weathered our love, and I wasn't quite sure I was alright with that.

Once we were far enough away from anyone's earshot, he spoke.

"I'm glad you're here, Temari," his voice was soft and choked, but not exactly intimate.

As there was no word I could speak that did not also necessitate physical contact, I simply gave the Leaf nin a tender smile and walked quickly so we could be out of the streets and somewhere in solitude soon.

At last we arrived at the library, and I worried that perhaps Shikamaru hadn't observed I didn't actually have any business to be conducted there, but had only said so to get alone time with him. However, as he continued walking with me up the steps and through the door, leading us down vacant hallways toward the even more secluded tunnels that were the archives, I knew it was stupid to doubt the sharp ninja would pick up on the subtext of my request.

Finally we stopped in the furthest corner, side by side, my arm pressed against his, both of our bodies leaning against a shelf of books. We sank to the ground so we could become even more withdrawn and unnoticeable.

I felt nervous as I looked up at him. I usually wasn't one to be at a loss for words, but I was right now. Nothing that popped into my mind seemed appropriate or right.

Shikamaru's eyes looked straight ahead, his lips pressed hard together, his eyebrows drawn over his eyes, pain etched in all aspects of his face.

I gingerly reached out my hand to clasp his. Immediately his fingers curled around mine, and I let out a silent sigh of relief. I was feeling so self-conscious and large and uncomfortable. I didn't feel like I belonged and I didn't know why he wasn't speaking.

Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. I licked my dry lips and spoke.

"I'm so, so sorry, Shikamaru." It still sounded wrong, or maybe just inadequate, but it was the best wrong thing I could think to say.

The tall, pony-tailed ninja dropped his head, closing his eyes as tears squeezed their way out.

"It's all my fault, Temari," his voice sounded hoarse as he pushed the words from his mouth. "All my fault. I should have stopped them."

I looked up at him and waited, knowing it was better to just let him get it all out, although my heart ached hearing him talk like that.

He used his free hand to put pressure against his eyes and the bridge of his nose as the tears traveled down to his strong jaw, lingering for a second and then sadly slipping off.

"I didn't do enough. I didn't figure it out soon enough... That's my job! That's the only thing I'm good at. I'm supposed to be able to analyze people and come up with strategies. It's the least I could've done and I failed. I failed them all, but mostly Asuma sensei. ... I let him ... down..."

He broke into a sob. I squeezed his warm hand tighter. Each shake of his shoulders was like a cut to my heart.

"Shikamaru," I tried to make my mind move faster in hopes the right words would suddenly just zip into focus. "I'm sure you did the best you could. It's not your fault... I'm sure it couldn't be helped."

Right away I could sense the slight change in his demeanor and I knew that wasn't what he wanted to hear.  _But what else could I have said?_

"But it was, Temari!" His brown eyes flashed. "You weren't there! You didn't see. I moved too slowly, and I just ... I just wasn't good enough. I had to watch him die ... at the hands of a worthless excuse of a human being. I had to see that miserable piece of shit laugh in delight as Asuma suffered and  _died_!"

His voice had gone from soft and choked to intense and sharp, crescendoing so his words echoed throughout the empty hallways.

_I just need to not talk,_  I determined, bringing my hand left hand across my chest to grip his shoulders as his body shook with anger and tears.

"It was awful, Temari. It was so much worse than I would have thought it could be. I just felt so outraged, and yet so helpless. I did all the wrong things, and then he died... It was just the most senseless death ever. It's not fair... it's not ... anyone else... if anyone should've died it should have been me. I would have switched places with him in a heartbeat... his life just meant s-so much ... so many p-people relied on him ... and now K-Kurenai ... and the baby ..."

The words he spoke were not longer discernible as they became consumed with more racking sobs.

My hand was beginning to hurt as he continually gripped it tighter and tighter, but I didn't budge. My other hand gently rubbed up and down his arm.

We sat like that for several minutes, every now and then Shikamaru muttering bits and pieces about "failure," "angry," and "it should've been me."

I could feel a pressure growing in my throat, the sort of dull pain that denotes a barrage of tears isn't far behind. My desire to repress those tears was twofold: Shikamaru had never seen me cry before and I didn't want to alarm him in his sensitive state, and I figured one of us had to stay strong.

Finally, his sobs had mostly subsided and he was simply breathing heavily and wiping away the wet, warm streaks from his clenched jaw.

Sucking in my breath and building my courage, I ventured to give him a soft kiss on his flushed cheek. I could taste the salty moist of his tears and feel how tense his muscles were as I kept my lips upon his face for just a few seconds. I wanted desperately to stay like this for hours, but I noticed it was getting late. Even if we left now, we'd have to hurry to make it to Asuma's funeral on time.

"Come on," I urged gently, squeezing his hand, not sure what else to do, feeling helpless and unsure. "We should get to the funeral, or we're going to be late. We can walk together. And then we'll talk more later."

Then, Shikamaru pulled his hand away wordlessly and stood up, and I could tell from his body language  he was starting to shut me out as well. The tears were threatening to spill out again now.

"I think I would just prefer to be alone," he said softly, his face turned away from mine.

I was shocked. "Are you serious? You're not going to go? To your teacher's funeral?"

He shook his head.

"Shikamaru, I think you will regret that. I understand you're hurting, but you have to go. You should go. It's the right thing to do," I tried to keep myself from getting harsh. I wasn't mad at him at all. I was just lost and confused.

"You don't understand, though, Temari."

Something snapped. I was incredulous and in so much agony that I couldn't hold back my own pain anymore and it came out dressed in a way I hadn't expected.

"You think I don't understand about loss, Shikamaru?" I kept my voice level as best I could. "Need I remind you that I, too, have lost people? Both of my parents are dead! Dead! Give me at least some credit when I say that I  _do_  understand how you're feeling. And that's why you  _need_  to go."

I had spat out the last part and I could see Shikamaru visibly wince, his eyes filling with tears. Damn, I wasn't handling this right at all!

"You're right. I'm sorry, Temari," his words were rushed but seemed genuine. "Really, I'm sorry... It's just.. Just ... I just ... I have to be alone ... I'm sorry ... I'm so sorry ..."

The final apology was an echo through the empty room as he muttered it while walking away from me with a pace I didn't often see him use.

As soon as his footsteps could no longer be heard, I let a scream burst forth that I had been masterfully hiding.

"Fuuuuuuuuckkkk!" The word rang out, sharp, loud, wrenched with such a pain I barely recognized it as being uttered by my voice. I had my eyes shut tight to dam my tears and my hands were balled into angry, hard fists that I pounded into my thighs, relishing the way they throbbed in response.

Never before had I felt the inadequacy and outrage currently taking control of me. Why did he have to go through this? It wasn't fair. He didn't deserve it!

Why couldn't I figure out what to say or do to help him? Why could something that had been wrapped so beautifully already seem to be unraveling? What did our love matter if it had absolutely no power to fix anything that was broken? God knows that with both of us living our lives as shinobi, there would be plenty to fix over time. What was the use of our "love" in a place such as that? Damn. I just felt so worthless...


	3. Vicious Cycle

Asuma's funeral was an eerily somber affair. An unbroken spread of black covered the green fields that housed the Leaf's graveyard, a beautiful place where both the village's most renowned jonin as well as the nameless individuals who had become mere numbers in a wartime casualties column all were given equal, unbiased tribute for their contribution to Konoha. Only a few graves took on a uniquely prominent or important appearance.

Although I did not feel particularly connected or personally affected by this death as I had barely known Asuma, it was impossible not to be moved by the pain being experienced by those I called acquaintances and friends. That is where my eyes traveled as village shinobi took turns commemorating the burly, fearless jonin who always had put his village first and, in the end, gave his life to a cause he highly valued.

The degree of agony and grief varied on the faces of the villagers, influenced by many factors from their relationship to Asuma to their individual personalities.

As always, Naruto was one of the most expressive, and his face reflected an anger at the injustice of this death as much as anything.

Tenten and Sakura stood side by side, slowly wiping away small rivulets of water trickling from their reddened eyes, with Sakura just slightly more in control of her emotions. Rock Lee was weeping a torrent of salty tears. Choji and Ino were clumped close together with their parents hovering nearby to act as human fortresses. I caught Kankuro glancing over at the small huddle upon several occasions with anxiety visible in his expressive eyes.

All throughout the group it was as if a heavy burden was settled somewhere close above, pushing them down, causing them to stoop under the unbearable weight of invisible pressure.

It was Kurenai, though, for whom my heart bled most profusely. My relationship to her definitely had a very rare aspect for, although I had barely spoken with her, I was one of the few people who currently had knowledge of her romantic relationship with Asuma and his offspring, right now no larger than my fist and nestled deep inside of her.

Because of my involvement with Shikamaru, I had been brought into the rigid confidentiality of that small, unofficial circle without any sort of common bond or friendship with the woman around whom that circle was centered, yet I felt an intense, probably unnatural loyalty to her by association.

Yet even of that, I was sure, she was absolutely unaware. There was a good chance she knew nothing more of me than my name. I wasn't quite sure how to address or handle the colossal imbalance that had been built inside our relation to one another. I tried not to stare at her, afraid she might be made uncomfortable by my gaze or, Gob forbid, think I was judging the way her belly had become slightly more round - only enough to be noticed by those who were seeking it out. But her pain was so obvious, so deeply etched into her facial features and spreading down from there and becoming manifested in other physical aspects, like her hunched shoulders, clenched fists and the way her arms constantly wrapped around her body in a protective manner, as if she was trying to ward off the grief with mere willpower.

As I slowly scanned the sea of faces, it was impossible not to recognize that one of the most important ones was missing. In fact, I was pretty sure his was the only one missing. My heart constricted with distress.

It felt so wrong. Everything about this situation. Everything it symbolized and foreshadowed, not only for the village but for the ninja world as a whole.

I knew as heartbreaking as this death was, it was the first of many. These recent attacks, both on the Sand and the Leaf villages, were simply the tipping of the first domino in a string of them that led far into the future and was likely to grow in impact along its journey. It was terrifying.

As the funeral came to a close, I wished desperately I wasn't as stoic and uncomfortable with revealing emotions as I was. Those were traits all three of us Sand siblings possessed, but I did wish we had been taught earlier in life that those characteristics were better suited for battle than for times when your comrades mourned.

Still, we did our best, going to each of our friends to offer our condolences. And I meant every single one of them.

As I held Choji's and Ino's hands, one after another, and looked into their eyes to tell them I hurt for them, I couldn't have been more sincere.

"Where is Shikamaru?" Kankuro asked, his curious eyes landing on mine for just a mere second, before he remembered I couldn't be the one to offer that information without it raising suspicions.

Ino looked around at the crowd with worry invading her crystal blue eyes before shrugging.

"I don't know," she said in a voice so heavy with grief that it took emotional strength just to hear it. "I-I can't imagine he wouldn't be here. He and Asuma sensei had such a special relationship. I mean, everyone knew he was Asuma's favorite, but it never mattered because it just made sense.."

"I believe he's at home," Yoshino said, overhearing Kankuro's question from her position a few feet away.

Having said that, she gave her husband, Shikaku, a deliberate, loaded look. It was obvious they were communicating non-verbally, because, a few seconds later, Shikaku gave a small nod and sigh and then headed out in the direction of the Nara residence.

For some reason, that fact gave me the most comfort I had yet to procure.

 _If anyone can get through to Shikamaru right now, it's his father_ , I thought with certainty, once again struck by how irregular it felt for Shikamaru's parents to hold such a significance to me, when I was nothing more than the Sand ambassador to them.

I knew almost everything there was to know about Yoshino and Shikaku, even odd, random details that it took a special intimacy - the intimacy of a son - to know.

Most importantly, I knew every nuance of the relationship between the Nara men, although I was well aware I had fully adopted Shikamaru's perception of the details in their entirety. I knew Shikamaru fervently looked up to and respected his father, desperately wishing to emulate him despite the few fundamental personality differences between the two which would forever make that mirror incomplete and disoriented.

I knew Shikaku would be firm with his 18-year-old son and that severe honesty would get through to Shikamaru in a way that was particularly painful because of its source, but also incredibly needed.

 _And he will handle it with unbending rationality and thoughtfulness, because that's who he is. You can trust him to be that kind of man,_  I thought fondly, trying to hide the emotions unsuspectingly awakened inside my body.

As much as I hated that it would take Shikaku's disapproval and maybe even hurtful words to get Shikamaru motivated, I tried to rest at ease that, in the end, it would be the best kind of comfort for my brilliant boyfriend.

And I knew the only person who could provide me any sort of solace or release.

Kankuro was standing many yards away, sort of secluded from the rest of the slowly dwindling attendees, many of whom were conversing with one another in hushed reverent tones before heading home one by one.

His back was to me and he was not alone, as Ino was right next to him ... incredibly close to him, actually. And his arm was not so much draped as it was tightly wound around her slender shoulders.

That was it. I definitely needed to inquire about this. If nothing else, it would be a nice, distracting conversation.

However, feeling less bold and abrasive than usual, I gave him more time alone with the platinum-haired kunoichi before demanding he come with me.

Quietly, I paced back and forth, my mind consumed with thoughts of Shikamaru, my heart throbbing for him.

I tried not think of the hurtful words he had said. They were, after all, just that: words. Sounds spoken and formed from pain, and he had not been incredibly cruel anyway. What had impacted me more was the sound of his sobs and the look of his face drenched in tears. It had been almost three years, at least, since I had seen him that way.

I just wanted things to go back to normal but I knew it was selfish and naïve to believe I could have that, that I even deserved that - this wasn't about me, anyway!

As emotionally stunted and clumsy as I was, though, I couldn't help wishing Shikamaru's solace was possible to obtain without me having to exercise any more of my worthless, bumbling attempts. My incompetence was just mortifying.

"You waiting for me, huh?"

I jumped at the sound of Kankuro's voice as it pulled me back to the present.

I nodded. "Where's Ino?"

"Gone home with her family. She really just needs that right now."

We had started walking away from the graveyard, our bodies becoming silhouettes as we headed in the direction of the falling sun. The succulent orange orb seemed the only object of warmth at this particular moment and I wanted to be closer to it.

"How you holding up, plumpy?" Kankuro asked. "... Can I still call you that? When you're sad?"

I gave a short, but sincere laugh. "Yeah, sure ... why not?"

"But seriously, you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm okay," I crossed my arms beneath my chest and closed my eyes for a second to let the wind's gentle laps cool me off. "That's the odd thing, Kankuro. I feel perfectly fine in one way. And it's that fact that seems wrong. I feel like I should be more distraught, more in tune with Shikamaru's feelings, more aligned with them, you know? But I don't share his source of grief, and I don't know what to do about that. I'm miserable not because Asuma's dead, although that fact carries some pain, certainly. But, honestly, I'm miserable because Shikamaru is. And that misalignment is just making it seem like everything I do is out of place and off-point and nothing I do can affect or help him."

Kankuro nodded slowly.

"I'm a good kunoichi. I'm a good jonin. I'm a good diplomat. ... But," my voice was getting gradually softer. My eyes stung with hot tears. "But, I don't think I know how to be a good girlfriend."

I let myself soak up the feeling of sadness. Although, damn, my self-pity sounded awfully pathetic. Trying to shake it off, I looked up at my brother with a somewhat wavering smile.

"Anyway ... it doesn't matter. I'll do what I have to do." My confidence was obviously a façade as I had no idea what it was I was supposed to do. Luckily, Kankuro didn't question it, regardless of whether or not the truth was transparent. "So... what is going on with you and Ino?"

Kankuro looked slightly confused I was choosing this time and place to delve into that topic, but then he simply shrugged, running his hand through his thick, brunette hair as he thought about it.

"I don't really know," he replied. "I mean, she's hot. ... And then you told me a while back that she was kind of into me ... I don't know. We'll see ... I don't over-think these things like you do, Temari."

"Well, Kankuro," my voice held the slight edge of a warning. "... Just, promise me you'll keep it in your pants. Please don't take advantage of the situation and just comfort-fuck this girl."

My brother's face was full of shock as his neck jerked and his eyes bolted up to look at me, trying to ascertain if his no-nonsense, big, terrifying sister had just made a joke about sex. His stricken face was the only bright and humorous thing I had seen in a while and I chased down the feeling of enjoyment.

Upon catching the slight mirth hidden inside my tone, though, he burst out laughing. Sometimes there's nothing to do but try to find a way to be lighthearted even in the darkest and murkiest of circumstances. I did it for my sake. For his. Because we were caught in a taunting, rigid cycle: he didn't know how to help me, and I didn't know how to help Shikamaru, who was himself caught in throes of shame and anger at not having been able to help Asuma.

"I can't make any promises, Temari," he joked back. "After all, I swear, it  _would_ make her feel better! Much, much better..."

"Oh, gross," I feigned disgust, punching my brother's arm.

"Well, last I heard, members of Team Ten get along  _very_ well with Sand shinobi," he laughed, giving me a wink. He then shrugged again. "I don't know. She talks about this Sasuke guy a lot. I know she was infatuated with him for like ... ever. I don't know if she's over him yet, and I definitely don't want to get caught up in that kind of shit. Too exhausting for my taste. But I told her she could do better."

"Namely you?" I teased with a grin.

"Yeah, I guess ... I don't know ... man, Temari. So curious and intrusive."

" _I'm_  curious and intrusive?" I asked belligerently, remembering back to the part my brother had to play in that whole charade concocted by Shikamaru. "Don't even get me started ..."

"Yeah, but see, you need all the help you can get because ... well, you're you. Me? I'm just fine on my own. I can handle my own love affairs."

I rolled my eyes and shook my head at his ridiculous insinuations, before sighing heavily and letting my shoulders slump forward once more. "What am I going to do, Kankuro?"

Realizing we were back to square one and that his over-analytical sister wasn't going to be able to keep herself distracted from the most pressing issue on her mind, Kankuro returned once more into sedated somberness. He patted my back tenderly.

"You are a good sister. And a good girlfriend. I promise, Temari. You'll figure out how to love him the way you want to, the way he needs you to."

Though it was awkward and unnatural for Kankuro to offer those compliments - the juxtaposition of this rare sentimentality to his normally brash, tough behavior was obvious - I knew he was sincere.

Just as I had predicted, it was the only thing that could come close to offering me a bit of warm comfort given the circumstances. Inside, that comfort swirled through my tense muscles causing them to relax for a bit while simultaneously giving me the subtle courage needed and strengthening my resolve to help see Shikamaru through this awful mess, no matter what it took.


	4. Another Parting

The first thing I experienced when I woke up was a sharp, insistent sound that startled me. The second thing I experienced was my uninhibited fist instinctively shooting upward out of habit. The third was the pressure of a hand catching my wrist in its grip before I could complete the action and make violent contact with the shadowed body looming above me.

"Temari."

My heart skipped a beat. That voice. Rich, ceaselessly languid, like a stream of thick, smooth chocolate, appeasing in the way in which it was poignantly intimate and so deeply embedded with countless associations, symbols, and memories that hearing it was an extravagant experience unlike any other. It sensually pulled me out of slumber in the way it touched me, spread around me, nourished me.

My eyes fluttered open and my face broke into a soft smile when they were met with the unparalleled masterpiece that, for me, was Shikamaru's face, especially when it was dressed in that fondness and affection and it was looking at me.

My love for him filled my mind and gave me just a second of pure serenity before Asuma's death and the day that had preceded this night begged obnoxiously for my attention.

Nervous and cautious, I was about to sit up when Shikamaru pressed his hand gently against my shoulder. His hand felt a little cool on my bare skin, but it couldn't have been more fulfilling.

"No, don't get up," he said softly, before gently scooting me over and crawling into bed with me. "I'll just join you."

I was shocked with the stark contrast of his mood and behavior at this moment compared to what it had been earlier in the afternoon. I didn't know if I should trust my senses and believe this was real. Surely it was a dream.

But then I felt his lips – his perfect, warm lips – capturing mine is a tender but passionate kiss and I didn't care if it was only a dream, because it was a damn good one.

Maybe it was just the large amount of time that had wedged its way between the last second I had been kissed by the Leaf ninja and this perfect moment, but instantly my blood began to boil and a stagnant yet fierce horniness emerged to invade my body in one quick conquest.

Shikamaru's hands then joined his lips in caressing my heated body and I was gone, pushing myself against Shikamaru so every inch that could possibly be touching him in the same second was.

In between sultry kisses I heard him whisper softly in a voice dressed with sincere concern, "I'm sorry about earlier, Temari. I'm so sorry. I was a dick, and I'm sorry. I shouldn't have treated you like that. I'm so sorry."

Twisting my fingers into his raven hair and brushing my tongue against his parted lips, I let the affectionate action serve as my distribution of absolute forgiveness for a wrong I no longer believed had been committed.

I wrapped my left leg around his thigh so that I could thrust my hips against his, feeling satisfied that the member pushing back against me was long and hard. For a few seconds, our bodies moved urgently in perfect unison. I wanted to keep going, taking this all the way to materialize the fantasies I had perfected over the past few weeks, but I knew there were things that needed to be sorted out first; questions to be asked and answers to be gleaned. I couldn't let myself dissipate into orgasmic bliss until I quelled the nagging pinch I felt.

Mustering every ounce of willpower I possessed, I pulled back from Shikamaru's intoxicating mouth, cherishing the way he moaned in frustration when I did so.

"Shikamaru," I said warily. Eyebrows knitted together, I perused him with concern. "Are you okay?"

He nodded slowly, stroking my face gently as he met my gaze with the unwavering confidence of a person who makes decisions and embraces them fully, consequences and all. "I have a plan."

I felt my heart start to sink from heavy, thick dread and I sat up quickly. "What does that mean?"

"I know what to do. I have a strategy to kill the Akatsuki members who murdered Asuma. Well, not kill exactly, because one of them -"

"You're going after them?" I interjected, bolting upright, trying to keep my voice down although I was inflicted by the stinging whips of panic. Why did this surprise me? Of course he was. Of course his security in having a carefully planned strategy was the only thing that could have led to him possessing this sort of calm, collected certainty. "By yourself?"

"No, no. I'm going to go get Choji and Ino to go with me. We need to leave early tomorrow - or this - morning. But, I couldn't leave just yet, not before seeing my troublesome woman, who, I am happy to find out, doesn't wear any clothes to bed... would've been a drag to get you out of them."

His lips claimed mine once more and his fingers wrapped around one of my breasts so he could squeeze it softly. Slowly he teased my nipple into a hard erection. I was torn between desire and alarm, my mind trying to release the need for more information so my body could simply enjoy these fantastic sensations.

"Shikamaru," I whispered, pulling back regretfully once more, immediately hating the absence of his full lips on mine. I tried to crush all longing to see a naked version of my boyfriend's slender and muscular body - at least for the time being. "What happened? What changed?"

He groaned once more, but he knew me. He knew I wouldn't be able to fully enjoy any sort of sexual intercourse until my racing mind had been calmed. He was patient enough to satisfy my curiosity, even though he kept his arms wrapped around me while we talked.

"Well, my dad spoke to me. Helped me see the full scope of the matter at hand. He made me realize my behavior was childish. I'm not a kid anymore, you know. When things like this happen, as they inevitably will, moping around and drowning in self-pity and insecurity are not viable options. They're just cowardly ways to avoid pain and responsibility."

"Action is the only option for a ninja," he continued, his gaze focused vaguely outward, but his hands still draped over my body – where they belonged. "I can't keep letting how troublesome life is get in the way of me standing up for what we - me, my dad, Asuma ... you - believe in. Otherwise, what sort of world will that make for Asuma's child? For all the kids being born and raised right now? I have to step up and be a leader for them - help create the only kind of world I would be proud to leave in their possession ... it all has to do with kings and knights and that kind of stuff."

I knew he was referencing some sort of conversation between Asuma and himself by the way his sharp eyes became distant, but it didn't matter that I couldn't understand that part. My skin felt prickly as my body was overrun with that throbbing sense of pride and respect, so intense it occasionally adopts a slightly gray, melancholy hue.

 _This is why I fell in love with you._  I couldn't, however, shake away the fear nibbling at me when I thought of Shikamaru going head to head with a member of the Akatsuki – not to mention an immortal one! But I knew it would be inappropriate for me to voice any such concern, so I let him keep talking.

"What do you think, Temari? Shouldn't a man who's working to become a Jonin try to stop the criminal who killed his Sensei before he can do any further damage?"

The question was rhetorical, and it almost seemed as if he was teasing me for always getting on his case about working toward promotion, but I still nodded. As much as I hated the thought of him putting himself in danger, he wouldn't be the kind of person I could admire or respect if he didn't do it.

"I just want to make Asuma sensei proud." His voice suddenly was soft and serious and his eyes dropped, his neck rippling for a second as he swallowed down his pain. "I just want to be the kind of man he wanted me to be. And the kind of man my father still believes I can be."

I could tell he was dealing with emotions as varied as my own, and mastering that kind of jungle was a feat in and of itself that took a less recognized kind of strength. I took his hand in my own, and, for the first time, felt like I had done something right. He squeezed my fingers tightly.

"Was he harsh to you?" I couldn't help asking, feeling a little defensive, although I knew Shikaku had more of a right to Shikamaru than I did.

Shikamaru didn't have to ask whom I meant, but I also realized right after I asked it that it was a ridiculous question. There was a time, and still were times, when Shikamaru would complain halfheartedly about things being too tough or people pushing him too hard. But he wouldn't right now. As if hearing my self-correction, the dark-haired Leaf shinobi shook his head.

"No," he answered. "He was just honest. Like he always is. ... And just ... right."

I nodded thoughtfully, my eyes traveling to the sheet of navy sky visible through my window. I burned my eyes focusing too hard on the tiny, twinkling stars, pins of white stabbed against the velvety planes that stretched for infinity, but of which I only had a small, containable piece. It felt manageable and comfortable, as if, for some reason, taking in the full expanse of the sky, and absorbing the thoughts and questions it would instigate, was too great a task.

I felt incredibly close to Shikamaru in this moment, and I had to analyze that emotional intimacy for just a second. Just taste it, feel it, try it on. It was a snuggly, soothing cloak, I decided. I liked it, although I hated myself for using a stupid word like "snuggly."

Was I ready to have that cloak stripped away by Shikamaru's ... _Just say it_  ... death?

"Are you done with your questions yet, you troublesome woman?" Shikamaru complained, his face displaying exasperation, his mischievous hands back on my voluptuous curves and cutting short my reverie. "Here I was, ready to come and make love to you before I have to leave, and you won't shut up ... what a drag."

"I'm just ... nervous," I admitted, pushing my bare breast against his cupping hand even as I spoke. His body was a pretty good cloak, too. It fit over and around me just right. I was surprised he could be this much at ease considering the mission he would undertake tomorrow. Which of us was miscalculating the gravity of the situation?

Shikamaru's eyebrows shot up as a teasing grin played on his lips. "Really? Are you worried about losing me, Temari? Is that it?"

I blushed and looked away, aggravated knowing that the twerp wasn't going to easily let me forget about this detour from the tough kunoichi persona I normally maintained.

When I didn't respond, he continued, synchronizing his taunts with sensuous caresses on my back and down to my ass, "Who would have thought ... that the fierce Temari of the Sand ... would ever get nervous about the thought of an 18-year-old Leaf shinobi doing his job and fighting criminals? 'Haven't you gone through emotional training'?"

His rendition of my voice and tone almost perfectly captured what it had been when I had asked him that same question nearly three years ago.

"Stop it, Shikamaru," I warned in a low voice, gritting my teeth and trying not to give in to his erotic strokes until he stopped making fun of me.

That was impossible, though, when he dragged his fingers down my abs and flat stomach, sneaked them in between the warm skin between my legs and used them to brush against pussy.

"Come on, Temari. Just admit it," he chuckled.

His finger grazed my slick pink bundle of skin and nerves at the front of my entrance just right, sending shivers throughout my body. I felt the muscles inside me constrict, anxious to be enveloped around Shikamaru's erection.

"Whatever," I gave in, gasping softly when he continued to gently fondle my clit and surrounding skin, stimulating the sensitive area and inflicting in me a sort of hormonal madness. "You can have it your own way ... I'll admit it ... but you must fuck me now."

"My, you are one bossy woman, aren't you?" Shikamaru asked lightly, pulling my naked body in closer to his while continuing to dance his fingers all over my wet, aching slit.

I began to grind my hips harshly against his prodding hand, loving the feeling of his gentle fingers rubbing all over each tender, hidden area. His mouth was on my neck, sucking the warm, delicate skin. I felt bathed in the sexy smell permeating from his face, neck, shoulders and hair.

All around me I could feel Shikamaru, sense Shikamaru with my nose, my skin, my mouth, my ears - just not my eyes, for those were shut tightly.

Wanting to give my handsome lover the same erotic bliss I was receiving, I reached my hand down his black pants to get a hold of his clothed member. Something in my mind must have toned down my memories of the girth of Shikamaru's dick, for when I wrapped my hand around his warm, hard shaft, I was again pleasantly surprised by how large and delicious it was.

I could feel the hot stickiness transpose itself from the tip of his erection to my rubbing palm. All I could think about was getting it out of those pants and shoved deep into my pulsating vagina.

But then it stopped. This time, it was he who put a pause on our enjoyable foreplay.

"Temari." His voice was suddenly very quiet and completely devoid of any mocking tone. My breath caught in my throat. I opened my eyes to stare into his serious face and wait.

His hands moved upward so he could gently grasp fistfuls of soft blonde hair on either side of my head, as if he was simply capturing in his memory what it felt like to have me close, just in case ... "I love you very much. All mocking aside. I'm happy to be with you. And I don't plan on that changing. You might be an intimidating woman, but you're mine, and I feel damn lucky... you're the most beautiful person that's ever existed, you know."

My chest tightened. It was getting too serious. I wanted to brush aside all thoughts of worry and concern with a joke or a sarcastic remark. But I knew I would forever regret it if I didn't simply accept the gravity of the situation, the possibilities that were too horrible to think about but wouldn't stop yammering for acknowledgement.

Although my trust in Shikamaru's abilities was so deeply rooted I felt it ridiculous to even imagine a world in which he could fail, and I was rarely wrong, I wanted to be honest with myself, for the sake of our love and its beauty that still had the power to blind me.

Softness wasn't my forte, but, luckily, Shikamaru always managed to pull it out from somewhere deep inside me.

"I-I love you, Shikamaru." My voice broke slightly. Damn it. This is why I wanted to keep things light and playful and pretend like everything was okay. Because when I confronted any sort of thought, even a half-developed one, about Shikamaru not being with me, it was too hard. Especially when I had to do it outside of myself. I would stutter and cry and sound utterly pathetic. "I can't do this, you know that. But... I ... do love you. So much. I can't tell you ... what you ... m-mean to me.. I... Oh, fuck. ... Don't smile like that!"

He  _was_  smiling, with searing affection, and I knew he loved it that only he could make me stutter over my words like this. I looked away bashfully, playing with a strand of hair to keep my fingers busy.

"Just let me finish," I continued, taking a deep breath to give this unnatural mushiness one more go although I kept a matter-of-fact tone. "You are brilliant, and I'm jealous of that, but I couldn't be more proud, and I love you for it. You are kind and strong and sensitive .. and .. perfect. And you're sexy as hell. ... Are we done with this now?"

Shikamaru chuckled quietly and then wrapped both hands on my face and kissed me, deeply, to help alleviate the embarrassment he knew I felt dispensing sentimental confessions. I could feel his thigh pressing hard against my core.

His kiss accomplished its goal. I was lost once again in a heavy fog of erotic, nerve-stimulating forgetfulness, which was perfect for a moment when no amount of preemptive anxiety or worrying could change even a shade of the future.

He brought his right leg to join the other, causing my bare thighs to stretch further apart, opening me up for easy access.

"Take off your clothes," I urged, surprised that in my current state my voice came out sounding like a needy whine. "I want to feel you inside me."

His eyes were darkening with lust and he shuddered slightly at my forthright request. He sat up and quickly pulled his shirt up and over his head. He didn't have on his mesh undershirt like usual so I was at once exposed to the sight of his delicious chest and abdomen. I couldn't help reaching up and running my hand over one of the rosy nubs on those flat twin pecs. I liked the way his muscles flexed involuntarily at my touch. Smiling seductively into my lover's sharp, dark eyes, I trailed just my fingertips down over the hard six pack that was not at all obscured by Shikamaru's silky, light skin.

"To think you used to be just a scrawny, annoying Leaf genin." My smile turned teasing, but there was nothing humorous about the way my hands were following the thin strip of hair from below Shikamaru's navel down to the rim of his pants and tugging them down slightly to bare more of his luxurious flesh. He scowled slightly but his chest was rising and falling at a satisfactory rate, I noted. His breathing was throaty and audible.

"Temari," he whispered, licking his dry lips and trying to keep his body from trembling as I continued to feel him. His eyes never left my face. I loved him. I loved this.

"C'mon, Shikamaru. Make yourself useful," I challenged, arching one of my thin, blonde eyebrows. "Pants off."

I didn't know how long he was going to let me order him around. When it came to our physical interactions – of which there were only a few, meaning I couldn't quite classify it as a trend though I deduced it would be – Shikamaru would always vie for and win dominance. And then he would do all sorts of delightfully humiliating things to me, of which I hoped there were more. Although I sure as hell would never admit to another human being, even under life-threatening torture, that I had let my younger boyfriend spank my full, round ass on more than one occasion to "get me to behave."

Right now, he simply did as I said, although that infuriating, trademark smirk had returned to his face and I knew it wouldn't be long. I could feel my flesh beginning to smolder in anticipation. I was quivering. Oh, how much I wanted him.

With ease, he slipped off his pants and boxers and then was back on top of me in a second, his warm, bare flesh connecting with mine and sending me wading into a frenzy that I knew would transform into hysteria before too long.

His mouth was on mine, his tongue tracing my lips, his hard cock warm and arousing against the small hollow beneath my hipbone. I tried to regain control of my thoughts as they had scattered every which way at the sight of Shikamaru's lithe, toned body bathed in moonlight. Damn, the man was the absolute personification of perfection: slender, defined, possessing of agile and fluid, but powerful strength that manifested itself in his athletic legs, tight ass, and rippling abs. The way my hands were itching to grope each part separately I was quickly becoming unwound.

"You're so sexy, Shikamaru," I whispered, squeezing both curves of his taut ass hard and then dragging my nails through his back as I searched for his shoulder blades.

"You're perfect, Temari," he answered, his words muffled as his lips threatened to suck the skin right off my neck.

Tightly we wound ourselves around each other, as if we truly believed that by entangling our limbs and bodies into a knot we could actually absorb one another and never be pulled apart. Even little things, like his perfectly shaped toes, the shallow dimples of his slender hips and the velvety skin covering the curve of his earlobe possessed me with crazed passion. All things Shikamaru were endearing or sexy to me.

When he finally penetrated me, it was well over-due: every inch of the area between my legs and inside of me was aching and on edge. Each thrust got my body quaking.

Our bodies moved like a desert storm: swirling, molding, building, producing rolls of thunder and strikes of lightning. The way we made love was proof to me that I was caught in the middle of something so much greater and more powerful than myself, or even anything I could fully comprehend at this time. Our vocal responses seemed to mesh into one sound, the only fitting soundtrack to our heated encounter.

Giving myself to Shikamaru in every way didn't diminish me, as one might expect. It created a cycle, where we seemed to feed off one another's energy and create something new and awe-inspiring. Each time he put himself into me fully, I rolled and grinded my hips, trying to extract every bit of pleasure possible, every bit of Shikamaru. I squeezed my thighs, clenched my fists, closed my eyes and held on – to this moment, to this energy rushing between us, to this power we were producing, to the combination of our life-forces unifying into a singular strength-giving entity.

My release came, and his shortly followed. But it was solely a physical release, that sweetly deflated our carnal connection. As for the unlikely emotional bond that tied the Leaf ninja to myself, it was concurrently tightening as my body slipped down, notch by notch, from the highest pinnacle of euphoria.

Gathering the last of my strength, I pressed my mouth fully against the shadow possessor's, savoring the way my stomach seemed to swoop when he kissed be back without restraint.

I felt out of sorts every time I made love to Shikamaru. Probably because of the new and pleasurable sensations to which he was introducing me. But also possibly because our relationship made no sense and all the sense in the world at one time. We were so mismatched that only fate could have brought us together – bound us together, forced us kicking and screaming into the relationship we both might have been better off without but now absolutely needed to make the most of our lives.

Yet how cruel were the fates to choose this for us. To design us each with an unusual, unquenchable, irresistible desire for the other, and then litter our individual paths with a myriad of hurdles and obstacles that impeded any real chance of us sharing a common life. Every day seemed to present a new challenge for us to overcome in order to maintain any semblance of a relationship. Even now, I was sharing a few precious moments with Shikamaru. But who knew what tomorrow would bring? And the next day? And after that? Were we just being toyed with?

Breathing heavily, Shikamaru moved his body from mine so we both could cool down. He kept one arm stretched toward me, though, his slightly curled fingers gently moving up and down my limp forearm.

"Shikamaru," I whispered, desperate to try in some small way to articulate the torrent inside my mind. I needed to try to fit at least part of it into words. But when I had his attention, I couldn't figure out exactly what I needed him to hear. The words seemed to shrink away from the responsibility of trying to describe my feelings and thoughts, as enormous and complicated as they were.

Pressing my cheek against his muscled arm so he could not see nor try to read my face, I silently dispelled a heavy sigh.

"Please... Don't be gone too long."


	5. A Long Wait

I awoke and Shikamaru was not with me. It was a normal situation to which I couldn't quite get accustomed. Every day it became more and more disconcerting and strange in direct proportion to my mounting desire to be near him always.

This time the loneliness hit me in a new way. It was colored a shade more dismal and debilitating than usual. I felt slightly nauseated. I sat up and let my legs dangle over the edge of my cold bed. I didn't want to think about where he was. But I wanted to know.

I was juggled back and forth between authentic, raw concern – thick and sickening as I conjectured possible outcomes to Shikamaru's impending meeting with the Akatsuki member – and a proud confidence – surging on the back of my love for the Leaf ninja and belief in his talent.

A little part of me was angry that Shikamaru had not woken me before leaving, but I knew why. I was a distraction. It wasn't romantic but it was reality. Something about me – either my words or behavior – would have made him second-guess his decision or lose focus and he didn't want that.

"It's for the best," I mused.

But I wasn't about to sit here on pins and needles, mulling through the duration of each second that felt like a lifetime. I couldn't. I couldn't move, though, either. I felt stuck and sick.

I pondered whether or not to go after him. Just to be back-up. But this wasn't really my fight, was it? And besides, as a Sand jonin and member of Gaara's administration, I wasn't free to go where I wanted, when I wanted. I was restricted to the missions assigned to me.

Independence, after all, was the price a shinobi pays to fight for society's collective, indomitable "greater good."

Somehow, my body knew the motions it needed to enact, even if my mind was not prompting them. I jumped out of bed. I wiped my body clean of the remnants from the deliciously wanton activities that took place – last night? This morning? A detached moment of time not pertinent to the drone of every day life? I liked that thought best.

 _Our moments are ours. They don't belong to this realm of time and space. They're safe. Nothing that happens in the physical world today or tomorrow or the next day can touch them_.

I brushed my hair, perusing myself in the mirror while I did so, erasing any and all traces of fear and remorse from my teal eyes. It was my mundane daily duty: Setting my face.

I had grown accustomed to running through the same monotonous instructions each morning: Your eyes must look this way; your lips must reveal no emotion; unclench your jaw; lift your chin; let your eyebrows settle into lines depicting vague apathy.

As I laid the brush on my nightstand, I caught a glimpse of my door in the mirror. And something taped to the door. A note.

A thrill ran through me.

I quickly retrieved the note, my hands trembling as I unfolded the scraggly sheet of paper that had been hurriedly ripped from a notebook. The informal letter was weighted with an aura of exceptional importance.

_This might be the last thing –_

I let the thought hang there, too afraid to finish it, but no less aware of the current situation just because I couldn't crunch it into words. I forced myself to read what might be Shikamaru's final words to me:

"Temari,

I can't live with myself if I don't confront this prick. You know that. But I can't live with myself if I let you down. Fortunately, if that happens, it will mean I am dead. I'm grateful for that, because it means I won't have to face your pain, anger and disappointment, as everyone knows to be your normal reactions to people letting you down. It's kind of a drag, but please know that my pain, anger and disappointment are ten-thousand times greater than yours would be when I consider the very real possibility this might be it for you and me. That is why I will fight to avenge Asuma, but also for my right – or, privilege – to let you down in much smaller ways for the rest of our lives.

I love you, my troublesome kunoichi."

It was just like Shikamaru to bluntly present an actuality that most people would skirt over. And to joke about it, nonetheless!

 _What a jerk_ , I thought, as ribbons of irritation twirled throughout my mind. Then a large drop of water splashed across Shikamaru's sprawled out handwriting and I knew from the wetness escaping my eyes that my annoyance was aroused by fear.

I carefully folded the note as small as it would go and tucked it into my dress. Gingerly, I dabbed the corner of my eye and took a deep breath, composing myself again.

All my belongings were neatly packed and ready for the journey back to Sunagakure. I swiftly strapped on my fan. Outside my door, I nearly stumbled across Kankuro leaning beside the entryway.

"There you are. Finally. It's about damn time. I thought I'd give you some privacy to clean up," his tone was teasing but his eyes were obviously colored with concern.

"It's alright, Kankuro," I sighed. "I'm fine. It's all going to be fine. I just don't want to talk about it. Or think about it. Alright?"

He shrugged, feigning indifference, although I could sense underneath the surface he continued worrying about me and would do so until Team 10 completed their mission.

"Well, it's good you feel that way," he said. "We have work to do. Very important work. And you're going to come with me."

"I thought we were going back to our village today," I responded, unsure whether I was happy or disappointed about the delay.

"Change of plans. Tsunade requested Gaara stay a few more days. They're working on a joint mission for Suna and Konaha. So we're stuck here a while longer. Well, not you and me… We have our own mission."

"Where, exactly?" I queried, my interest slightly piqued.

"To the Tanzaku Quarters," he answered. He jerkily moved to go in an obvious effort to avoid my questioning gaze.

"Tanzaku Quarters?" I mimicked, feeling suspicious. Known for its flashy nightlife, that wasn't exactly the place one would normally associate with an important mission. Rather, it was the kind of place that would appeal to the Fifth Hokage's vices. "Why, Kankuro? What mission do we have there? And why is this directive not coming from Gaara to both of us? Shouldn't he have mentioned this earlier?"

"Because," Kankuro's words lengthened with his blatant annoyance, "this mission doesn't concern him."

"What mission doesn't concern the Kazekage? Kankuro. Seriously. What are we really going to do? Why do you need me to go with you?"

Releasing a sigh of exasperation, my brother at last gave in. "I need to get some parts and accessories for a new puppet creation I'm making. And you need to come with me, because there's nothing else for you to do today."

I deflated. That was it? I wanted – no, needed – more action than that. I needed to fight. I needed to be put in a life-or-death situation that required me to focus so hard on survival that all other thoughts would be stripped away out of necessity. I needed to be confronted by 10 shinobi with the directive to kill all of them.

"Kankuro," I started, but was quickly cut off.

"Listen, Temari," Kankuro turned back toward me, and I was taken aback by his earnestness. "I know it's lame. I know. But I don't know what else to do. There really is no other work for you to do today. Except administrative stuff. But that means sitting at a stupid desk, where you'll just spend the whole damn time daydreaming – or freaking out or whatever. And I can't have that. C'mon. You're smart. You're a long-range fighter, so you'll have good judgment I can use."

I was stung by the way his flattery juxtaposed – or more likely, was meant to mask – the fact that he felt sorry for my pathetic situation and was compelled to take care of me.

Feeling both sour and grateful, I said nothing, but fell in step with him.

"It will be fun," he cajoled.

"Was this really the best idea you and Gaara could conjure up for how to keep me preoccupied? Shopping?"

"Hey, I did my best," he responded defensively. "Kills two birds with one stone. I want to start working on my new puppet, and you need to be – not here. We'll be back before Shikamaru is."

For some reason, hearing my brother word it like, as if Shikamaru's return was a given, bathed me in a sense of relief. Or maybe fool's hope. Either way, it reminded me that life does not stay still and stagnant, even if one chooses not to engage it.

Kankuro was right.

I could stay here and fret and get nothing down. Or I could go with him. I still wouldn't be getting anything done, at least not really. But I would be moving. I would be engaging in some sort of life-affirming, forward motion.

For a shinobi, whose whole life is uncertainty and unpredictability, always being able to take another step, breathe a little longer, move a little more, no matter what, truly was the most important quality.

 

* * *

 

Carefully yet absentmindedly, I ran my reaching hand along trays of needles, shuriken, kunai and a variety of other blades and tools.

On the other side of the counter, a saleswoman was gushing extravagantly in an attempt to coerce my purchase in a way that would help her bottom line. The words hit my ears and then fell flat. There were too many other thoughts vying for my mind's attention.

For at least the hundredth time, I glanced up at the round clock hanging on the back wall. As if taunting me, the hands had barely moved. _Damn you_ , I cursed them.

Waiting is the worst feeling, I noted for the hundredth time, picking up and inspecting an alluring item.

My fingers trailed the sharp edge of the slightly curved blade. I liked the length and the shape of the weapon, and I could think of a dozen or so ways it could be used or positioned for use in combat. A small trough was carved in the center of the knife – perfect for trapping and carrying a greater amount or variety of poisons. Those were Kankuro's favorite.

"What about this?" I blurted out to Kankuro, only realizing after that I undoubtedly had interrupted the saleswoman. If she had not responded by fixing me in a huffy but venomous stare, I might have apologized.

My brother joined my side and nimbly grabbed the weapon from me, his eyes filled with approval and excitement. "Nice. This will work great."

Turning to the saleswoman, he added, "I'll take six."

As she packaged the sharp knives, the woman perused my brother curiously. "Say," she remarked, her voice loud and nasally. "You two aren't from around here, are you?"

We shook our heads.

"Hmph. That's obvious. And I have to ask … what does a simple street performer need with such extravagant weapons?" She sneered at my brother, a bit of disdain dripping from her voice.

I assumed she didn't think much of street performers, but those were dangerous words to direct toward Kankuro. Although, to be fair, his get-up often confused people.

The gangly woman was still holding the package and seemed none too eager to hand it over to someone she deemed incompetent. "I'm sure you don't know what to do with these. Handling weapons isn't like playing with little puppets, boy. You actually have to know what you're doing."

My eyes wide, I slowly turned my head to look at Kankuro, instinctively stepping forward in case I needed to mediate.

My hotheaded brother generally handled these situations in one of two ways. If he felt threatened or seriously aggravated, he would dispel incredulity or taunting by quickly giving the source a glimpse of his talent – just enough to make it clear his puppet show was far from ordinary.

Luckily, he seemed to think little of the saleswoman's mental prowess, in which case he relied more on his biting sarcasm.

"Oh … really?" His mouth was twisted into a mocking smile, but his eyes were narrowed in an intense gaze, which kept me on alert… just in case. "You don't play with weapons like you do with puppets? I had  _no_  idea. I wonder why  _ever_  that would be."

Oblivious to Kankuro's tone, the woman responded haughtily, "Weapons are dangerous! They can hurt someone, if you're not careful. Puppets, on the other hand, are for child's play or entertaining and making a few ryo here and there from the stupid, unsuspecting herds of tourists."

"Huh," Kankuro sighed, looking overly relieved. "I'm glad we ran into you. Don't know what I would have done otherwise. Probably used these for playing with some kids. That would have been bad, I assume?"

"You can't play with knives around children! What a stupid idea!" The woman had transitioned from contempt to a sense of self-assumed superiority that made her grating voice patronizing. "I would advise you to just stick to your little shows, and don't try using those until you get proper training or you might hurt yourself."

Suddenly, the package shot out of the woman's grip, getting pulled directly over the counter into my brother's agile and waiting hands. The woman gave a startled shout, jumping back and shaking her hands as if they had been stung. I stifled my laughter.

"Thanks for the tip." Kankuro winked and casually tipped the package in a mock salute toward the woman.

"What – I… I... go ..." The woman sputtered wildly, flabbergasted and even more suspicious than before.

"Have a good day," I said hurriedly. I grabbed my brother's arm and lead us out of the shop, leaving behind the gaping salesperson.

We scurried to the open, bustling street, both bursting into laughter when we were safely out of earshot.

"You need to be more careful, showoff!" I warned, still smiling, as I wasn't that concerned. Probably the snobby woman hadn't detected the strings of chakra emanating from Kankuro's hands.

Kankuro also was dismissive.

"Come on, Temari," he laughed. "She had it coming. Street performer, my ass."

He was right, so I simply shrugged. Truth be told, I did appreciate the distractions my brother was creating. Which reminded me … Anxiously, I squinted up to gauge the position of the sun.

_Yes! Another 14 minutes down… Only a couple hundred thousand more to go..._


	6. Happy Homecoming

We decided to stay the night in the city. A part of me rebuffed the idea of not being in Konoha, where at least I would feel closer to Shikamaru and readily available to receive news of Team 10's mission the moment it was finished. But I knew that was ridiculous. There was travel involved. Certainly, the mission wouldn't be finished this soon, or even in the next day, most likely.

My whole body seemed to itch with an insatiable anxiety. Even a couple hours of training did little to quell my nervous agitation.

Laying on a grassy knoll outside of town after, trying to catch my breath, I considered how annoying I must be to Kankuro in my present state.

I turned to him sheepishly. "It's a good thing we got away from Konoha," I admitted as a thank you, adding apologetically, "I'm sorry I'm being such a pain in the ass. I don't know why this situation is affecting me like this. It's ridiculous."

"Temari, you don't have to apologize. Not to me. What are brothers for?"

I couldn't help smiling faintly, flushed with bittersweet sentimentality. Without our parents, the three of us truly did have only each other. At some point over the years, it had gotten to the point where Gaara and Kankuro were the only people I trusted or relied on, other than myself. I had colleagues I worked with; subordinates I acknowledged; even enemies I respected. But I didn't let myself get attached in a soft, significant way.

Not until … I shook my head.

"I'm going to head back and do some work. You're free to go on by yourself and enjoy some of that nightlife you like so much," I joked. "It's probably easier to pull willing girls without a big sister around."

Kankuro chuckled but shook his head. "Nah, that's alright. I'd rather not. I'll just stick with you. We can eat and visit the hot springs. You need to relax."

I was a little shocked he said no. It seemed odd.

"Really?" I asked dubiously. "That's surprising. Why not?"

Kankuro shrugged but I could tell he was trying a little too hard not to look at me. Which made sense, since I of all people could analyze his behavior and deduce his thoughts to near perfection.

Yet, even without looking into his eyes, I had a sneaking suspicion. As unlikely as it was, I had to ask.

"Is it … because of ... Ino?" My voice betrayed my incredulity.

My brother snorted dismissively, a thin veil for his embarrassment at my correct guess, but even after a few seconds, he didn't deny it. He wasn't the type of person who would.

I turned away thoughtfully. I had no idea there was even the semblance of substantiality to their feelings.

"Oh… hmm."

"See, Temari. Juvenile feelings aren't just for the likes of you." He was trying to joke, but I could sense a sliver of bitterness in his rueful humor.

If that were true, I suddenly realized, Kankuro probably was going through a little of what I was – the anguish of waiting for a loved one to return from a dangerous situation. I bit my bottom lip, desperately trying to think of the right thing to say. What would I want to hear?

"I'm sure she will be okay," I offered hesitantly. I immediately regretted it. I hated hearing those pitiful promises from people who had no power to affect a situation in any way.

Just as I expected, Kankuro shrugged and looked straight forward, as cavalierly as he could. "It is what it is. No use worrying. It's no big deal."

Slapping his thighs, as if to indicate that was the end of the discussion, he quickly rose to his feet.

"C'mon. Let's get something to eat."

"Hn." I nodded, standing too. I knew it was futile trying to comfort Kankuro. His brash wouldn't let anything I said or did be meaningful in any way.

Still, as his big sister, I couldn't help keeping a wary eye on him as we traveled back inside city limits.

We walked in silence for several minutes. Absentmindedly, my hands molded and played with the wind gently licking my face and playing with my hair. It was nice to enjoy the solitude for a while.

Before I could get too lost in my thoughts, I heard my brother clear his throat, preparing to speak.

"Temari." Kankuro paused, an indication he was traversing into serious territory.

I waited expectantly. I was on alert in case he wanted to revisit our former topic.

"Have you thought this through?" he asked, more gentle than reproachful. "I mean. With Shikamaru."

My heart skipped at the sound of that name. I waited breathlessly, a sense of unease and curiosity resting in my chest. My ears burned.

"Say everything goes great – this  _thing_  keeps going," Kankuro continued, thoughtfully but haphazardly, clearly trying to be careful with his words. Tact wasn't his strength, by any means. "You find ways to spend more time with him. And actually have a real relationship. I mean – like, I know you guys love each other. But let's be honest. With the limited amount of time we have with the Leaf shinobi, there isn't really time for much else than fucking when you see each other. Which is just the first instinct. I get it. But anyway. So you get to spend more time together. Then, you guys are in love, and happy, et cetera. Eventually you want to marry him."

The word was way too serious, and even though it was a mere sound, it seemed to strangle me. I couldn't handle the lofty connotations of that concept. It was too much.

"We haven't said anything about marriage," I hurried to object.

Before I could get too far into beating down the idea, the phrase "rest of our lives" flashed in my mind. He had written that, hadn't he? And as frightening and overwhelming as it was, a part of me desperately wanted that someday. More than anything. I shut my mouth and swallowed.

Kankuro, sensing my defeat, continued, "You guys get married. Great. But then what? Where will you live? How can you be married and committed to a Leaf ninja and still be a Sand kunoichi? Is that even possible?"

Nothing. I had no answer. Cold and uncomfortable. I considered the words. I didn't know what to say. All I got was a buzzing sound in my mind.

I mentally repeated the questions, tossed them around a few times: How  _was_  this going to work? Who would move where? Who would have to turn their life inside out?

It felt entirely too soon to be asking these questions, and my mind was trying to forcefully eject them like foreign objects.

We hadn't seriously talked about … marriage. I shuddered at the thought of having to give up the position and power I had in Sunakagure. Not to mention the pride I felt protecting and serving the land that I loved. But… Shikamaru. I loved him, too. When I was with him, I felt vividly alive in an incomparable way.

All I could manage was a weak, "Well…" before relapsing into complete silence. It dawned on me that was an answer itself. My throat knotted up.

"Hey, hey," Kankuro rushed to say, anxious to change the mood he had created, unaware of the consequences. "Sorry. We shouldn't talk about it. It doesn't matter. I was just thinking out loud. That was dumb of me."

"No," I responded solemnly. "It wasn't dumb. You're right. I hadn't thought of that…"

I hadn't  _thought_  of that?  _I_  hadn't thought of that? Me? With all my over-worrying, psychoanalysis, gauging, guessing, calculating, factoring, how had I overlooked that possible conclusion?

 _Maybe because it meant admitting marriage was a possibility_ , I answered my own questions. _Or more likely, admitting it was something you could eventually want_.

I avoided thinking of that outcome because I didn't want to confess to myself, let alone anyone else, that I not only loved Shikamaru in the present but also intended to keep him forever. That is, if he was still alive now.

 _Damn it!_ I thought with a fresh flush of fear as I remembered where he was right now. Fuck. It was a lot of dirty, emotional work caring for someone. I wasn't sure I could handle it forever.

"Temari, seriously," Kankuro said, worry clouding his eyes. I assumed I had fallen silent for several seconds. "I shouldn't have said anything. I meant this trip as a distraction. And I ruined that…. Fuck."

In a shaky imitation of his behavior, I tried to wave my hand dismissively, as if that would make this whole matter trivial. It was like trying to cover an elephant with a towel, but what else could I do?

"Kankuro. It's alright. Everything is fine. I'm fine. That's years down the road. I'm sure we won't get to that point. And if we do –" I choked on my lack of a solution. "We'll … figure it out. It really doesn't matter. We have more important things to think about. … Let's eat."

 

* * *

 

Two days later, I found myself approaching the gate of Hidden Leaf Village.

I wanted to throw up. I had been waiting. Each second had dragged by like a slug. But now that it could all be over in the next few hours – the agony of uncertainty, the painful gnawing to know the outcome of the fight, the suffocating desire to see Shikamaru – I had the urge to run the other way.

It was the feeling I had when I was waiting to hear if I had been accepted into the ninja academy, when I was waiting to see if I had passed the chunin exam, when I was waiting to find out if Shikamaru was leaving Konohagakure to serve with the Twelve Guardian Ninja.

In every instance, that coveted letter or telegram or conversation – the one containing the precious answer to a significant question – always loomed larger than life.

Even though they were the simple messengers, they seemed to have all the power. Yes, a tree falling in a forest while no one is around still makes a noise, but that noise can only be endowed with interpretation, meaning or influence if people are listening. It is meaningless otherwise – just a dead hunk of wood.

In the same way, I knew logically that refusal to open those important messages or avoiding those confrontations wouldn't change reality … but it was a way to avoid it, to try to strip it of its power.

I was still walking. That was good. Even as I mulled over my antsy fear, I had to just bulldoze ahead.

I wondered if we were at a point in our relationship where I should have some sort of instinct about whether or not he had died. Wasn't that a thing? Didn't some parents, lovers and siblings have "a feeling" when their loved one passed away, even before they officially heard the news?

_I believe that happens sometimes. And I haven't felt any sort of inkling one way or another. So… he's fine, right?_

Only one way to find out. I took a deep breath.

"C'mon, Temari. Don't be a baby," Kankuro taunted, prodding me forward by pushing his fist into my spine.

I instinctively punched his arm away, but I was too focused on what I would find inside Hidden Leaf to respond further.

"Okay," I finally said, more to myself than him.

Lifting my chin and firmly setting my jaw, I marched onward. I figured Gaara would have information on what transpired during our absence but when we reached the quarters we stayed in as visitors, he was nowhere to be found.

 _Where next_? Even before I knew, my feet were moving again.

"You're walking too fast. You look crazy," Kankuro prattled on as we made our way next to the Hokage dwelling. "Everyone is going to think you're about to kill someone. Look less intense. Are you about to bomb the city? Mad woman on the loose."

"Shut up," I muttered with exasperation, trying to loosen my muscles and slow down, nonetheless. "I can't help it. … I'm scared."

After a beat, he responded. "I know."

We walked on, enveloped in silence. At least, I assumed it was silent outside. I couldn't hear anything myself.

On the steps of the tower, I finally thought to ask, "What's our reason for being here?"

"You're looking for Shikamaru, remember?"

"I know  _that_ ," I couldn't help smiling a little. "I meant, what will we tell Lady Tsunade?"

"Oh. Um. We could just say we are looking for Gaara since we have information for him."

"And then we would have to think up something to tell him if she did know where he was. All I want is for someone to give us some intel as soon as possible. What's the easiest way to do that?"

"We could just ask. It involves the Akatsuki. I don't think it looks unusual to find out what happened."

"Hn. Okay. I guess that works. But what if …?" The words disappeared from my tongue. I was left gulping for air instead. "I don't know if I can hold myself together."

"You're a shinobi. You can. You have no choice."

I nodded, embarrassed I was letting weakness seep through. "You're right. Let's go."

I knocked on the door, enjoying the sense of solid wood smacking my fist – a reiteration of my connection to reality. I had to stay in the moment.

Upon Lady Tsunade's, "Come in," we entered her brightly lit office. The windows were open and a light breeze was sweeping through. That was reassuring for some reason, but then I had always been a bit superstitious.

I tried to greet her, but when I went to open my mouth, it felt glued shut. I nodded slightly instead, letting an awkward second transpire.

"Lady Tsunade," Kankuro jumped in. "We wanted to see if there is any news regarding the Akutski, our shared enemy. We heard there was a mission to fight two members."

Thank god for my brother. I wanted to hug him, but I stayed put, waiting without breath for the Hokage's response.

"Hn, of course," she nodded. Her eyebrows were drawn together, but her mouth was relaxed, almost smiling. "We sent Kakashi Hatake and his team as backup for Team 10. They were victorious in taking down both Akatsuki members. We know the organization may have gathered some information about Leaf through the battles, but that is the worst-case scenario. And for now, I have told the Leaf shinobi to rest for a few days. We plan to fully debrief and plan our next steps at that time. If you could pass on that information to the Kazekage, I would appreciate it. I would like to meet with him tomorrow or the next day so we can talk about the matter privately to have a shared mission before I regroup with my shinobi."

"Yes, of course," Kankuro said, a sigh of relief audibly embedded in his words. "And… all Leaf shinobi return unharmed?"

I could have sworn an hour passed as I waited for the Hokage's response.

"Only minor injuries and some exhaustion."

Never had relief felt so sweet, except when Gaara was revived. Indeed, it almost felt like Shikamaru was also reborn, or at least his significance to me was.

Somewhere, seemingly miles away, Tsunade was talking about a community gathering planned for 8 tonight and how were welcome to come, but I was consumed with thoughts of my Leaf lover.

It was hitting me in an entirely new way, how lucky I was to have him, to be someone important to him, to get to call him my own. I was pretty sure I deserved none of it, but I promised myself then and there I would not take it for granted – for whatever amount of time I had left in this life with him.

 

* * *

 

I loved the subtle but warm sense of cheer and ease that rushed over me as I entered the gathering room later that night.

It was a small victory, but it meant a great deal for morale, which the Leaf Village desperately needed. It was as if the city's shinobi had decided to give themselves a collective night to exhale and just relax.

Yes, we had only encountered the beginning of the Akatsuki problem; yes, there were countless plans to craft and preparations to make; yes, there were hints we were on the edge of an immense conflict. But all imminent dangers had been suppressed for the time being, and it felt good stealing a moment to enjoy that.

The room was filled with representatives from Leaf Village's various ninja ranks: genin, chunin, jonin, family members and friends. My eyes flitted to the corner where the older teenagers and young adults had collected. There were Naruto, Kiba, Rock Lee, Ino, Sakura, TenTen, Neji, Hinata… Only one person seemed to be missing.

I tried to dismiss my nagging disappointment, but it was hard to ignore the feeling I might explode if I was forced to wait another minute to reconnect with him.

 _Damn…. where could he be?_ I wondered, wishing I could ask the question out loud to someone who could satisfy me with an answer. _What the hell, Shikamaru?_

Glancing back to the other side of the room, I saw the Nara heads-of-household conversing with other adults. So where was their damn son?

Quickly analyzing the situation, I took stock of who else might be missing, but my knowledge of the Leaf ninja wasn't that expansive. It looked like Aoba might be gone. Akira and Izumi, too. And Kurenai.

Suddenly, a trio of slightly lubricated kunoichi bounded over, interrupting my thoughts.

"Temari!" Ino called. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes shiny, which I took as symptoms of her current blood-alcohol level.

As I prepared to respond, her eyes darted off me, and in her present state she did a terrible job hiding the fact that the puppet master at my side had snatched her attention. "Kankuro!"

Well, so much for that. It didn't matter. A few seconds later, a giggling TenTen grabbed my hand. "Temari, you must drink with us. It's a party, and that's what you do."

I hadn't seen my Leaf comrades quite like this before. I was a little apprehensive about the informality and lack of professionalism on display, but it also was infectious. I could feel myself getting pulled into the celebratory spirit and I was thinking twice about staying stoic… and lucid.

 _Alright, so maybe this could be a little fun,_ I admitted, taking a dripping tumbler filled with warm liquid from TenTen's hand. _After all, they deserve a short break, don't they? Everyone needs a chance to unwind every once in a while._

"Yes!" Sakura cheered as I quickly downed half the drink. "We rarely get to have you guys come out with us. This is fun."

The dry, bitter liquid burned my throat in a pleasing way. Almost immediately, I could tell my normally tense limbs had relaxed a bit.

"I was happy to hear you guys made it back alright," I told the pink-haired kunoichi. "Are you alright?"

She nodded cheerily, taking a sip of her drink. "For the most part. A little bruised. But Sai and I didn't have to do much fighting at all. When we arrived, Kakashi Sensei sent us after Shikamaru, but he had taken care of Hidan before we got there."

I stifled a proud grin that teased my lips and nodded intently, letting Sakura finish her story.

"The three of us headed back to the other fighting site, and the others were finished there, too. My role was pretty much just attending to everyone's injuries as best I could. Lady Tsunade took care of the rest when we got back, and then she told us to take a few days for rejuvenation.

"It was really something to see, Temari! You wouldn't believe the caliber of our enemies. The guys and Ino took quite a beating, but they won – that's what matters."

I could tell she was proud, too. I opened my mouth to ask more questions, but a jostling Naruto had made an appearance, carrying an open bottle of sake in an unsteady hand.

"Refills anyone?" He asked jovially, not waiting for a reply before filling up both of our cups. "Drink up, drink up! Tonight is for fun. Believe it! Once I'm Hokage, I can't drink like this –"

"Enjoy the freedoms of youth!" Rock Lee cried out from where he stood a few feet away, talking with Kiba and Shino.

"Here, drink! Drink!" Naruto commanded.

Naruto always was the unyielding champion whether a task was small and meaningless or large and life-changing – taking shots or fighting an S-ranked criminal.

"Temari, did you hear about the fight?"

I started to nod, but he kept going anyway to share about the experience from his point of view.

The Leaf ninja's brash and exuberance were rubbing off on me. I couldn't help smiling at his animated re-telling of his encounter with that "Scary Stringy Dude." Some things never change.

By the time he got to the part of using his newly developed rasenshuriken jutsu, his recollections were being told with such ridiculous broad strokes and fast gesticulations. Along with Sakura and TenTen, I couldn't help laughing a little. He finished his story. I finished my second glass of sake. The music got louder. The lights brighter. My head was lighter.

"Temari! Why aren't you drinking?" Naruto asked, obviously offended at my empty cup. The tipsy blond ninja wasted no time in making sure I was given another dose of libations.

Some of the older attendees had left for the night, leaving the younger comrades to begin heightening the party atmosphere of the gathering.

"So, Temari," Sakura laughed playfully, her green eyes mischievous. I could feel her warmth as she got closer to me. It should have been uncomfortable, but it wasn't. Something was making me behave with atypical informality as I leaned my head closer to her to hear what she was saying. "Does it bother you – " her sentence broke with a misplaced laugh that prevented her from continuing.

"Bother you that –" she tried again, but to no avail.

"What is wrong with you?" I laughed in response, enjoying the good-natured camaraderie we were sharing. Ever since she saved Kankuro's life, we had a tighter connection than I shared with most of my other colleagues. "Does what bother me?"

"Does it bother you," she finally continued, managing to catch her breath while I chuckled intermittently at her strange antics. "That Ino has taken a liking to your little brother and probably done all kinds of things with him? Is that awkward for you?"

I gasped, conscious that all my actions seemed too large, too over-the-top, but I was unable to control them as I normally could. _Note to self – never go on a mission after drinking._

My hazy mental state reminded me of another night when enjoying a few shots led to some – ahem, unexpected consequences. Immediately, I set about repressing those thoughts; I was afraid thinking back to "that night" would overwhelm me with dangerously sticky emotions that could be hard to conceal from the present company. Instead I focused on the shock I felt regarding Sakura's familiarity with Kankuro and Ino's liaisons.

"How do you know about that?"

She released another laugh and pointed with a finger from the hand she was using to hold her drink, the clear liquid in her glass threatening to spill over the rim.

I followed her gaze, slowly, for that seemed to be the only speed at which I was capable of functioning right now. I let out another gasp when I saw what was at the end of her pointing finger.

Leaning against a dimly lit wall, Kankuro was fervently kissing the platinum-haired Leaf shinobi, whose body was pressed skin-tight against his. His hands were wrapped around her back, cradling and supporting her head as he worked over her mouth and neck with his lips. Her hands – where were they? I scowled, not wanting to let my mind go there. Instead, I focused on how it would look to our allies that my brother, who was supposed to represent and protect the good name of the Sand Village, was making out with a Leaf chunin.

I shook my head, flushed with the kind of embarrassment only a family member's unorthodox behavior can evoke. Draping a hand across my forehead I let out a small groan. "Oh Kankuro. He's so dumb. What will they say?"

"Who?" Sakura asked, suddenly genuinely concerned. I wouldn't have been able to take her seriously if I wasn't in a similar state of intoxication.

"Them – Lady Tsunade – and him – my brother – the other one – them. It's not good… unbecoming for us – for the ninja," I couldn't put my thoughts into fully formed sentences, but Sakura didn't seem to mind. She simply displayed genuine relief there weren't truly evil and dangerous people that were going to be pissed off by Ino and Kankuro kissing. "Bad, unprofessional behavior."

"Everything is unbecoming for a ninja!" Sakura laughed, almost defiantly. She knew something about the insurmountable power of attraction, after all. "We're never supposed to show any emotion, to have any fun, to care for the people we love. Well, I say, let them damned!"

"Wait… who?"

"The … becoming actions," she answered ridiculously.

"I'll drink to that," I lifted my glass, overcome with a feeling that she was perfectly right. I considered myself a model shinobi, but even I could get tired of always doing what was traditionally "good and proper." For instance, right now. I wanted to engage in activities that could be perceived as very, very wrong with a certain team captain, who, I noted with a fresh sense of frustration, was not there. _Where the hell is he?_

'The only thing you have to worry about," Sakura confided, giggling. "Is that … Ino has very, very protective parents. And your brother… well, no one's quite sure about him. I wouldn't say he has the most pristine reputation."

I couldn't help laughing at the bizarre thoughts sprouting in my mind of the kind of revenge Ino's family members could enact on my teenaged brother. I conjured up images of Inoichi Yamanaka using his jutsu to take over Kankuro's mind and make him cause all kind of mischief that he would later take the blame for when released from the Ninja art. It was utterly ridiculous.

In an usual display of friendship, I whispered what was on my mind to Sakura, pleased when she disintegrated into another small fit of laughter.

 _I'm having fun_ , I noted with surprise, as if calculating the situation as a third-party observer.

"Ah, well," I shrugged, leaving my handsy brother to his fate. "I guess we'll see if it's worth it. Kankuro is all about living life to the fullest, no matter what it costs him."

… _And of course he thinks Ino is worth it_ , I added silently to myself.

"To living life!" Sakura cheered again. Our glasses connected and let out a sharp clink and then we both went about consuming their remaining contents.

"Sorry I'm late."

_Oh. My._

Something about the atmosphere, or the alcohol, was causing me to respond to sensory stimuli in acutely visceral ways, sans any and all logical intervention. My heart started beating wildly. I felt automatically hot and bothered. A very intimate part of my body started throbbing.

I turned to find myself staring straight into Shikamaru's steady gaze.

The Leaf ninja, standing casually with his arms crossed over his chest, raised his eyebrows and gave me a smirk when I caught his eye, revealing just how obvious it was that I had been drinking and he was going to make me feel silly for it.

 _I guess I'm worse off than I thought_. I was ashamed for a mere second before smoldering desires consumed my foggy mind. I had never wanted to pounce him like I did right now. I wanted to feel him under me, in me. Instead, I kept my lips tightly pressed together and scanned him from head to toe, making sure there were no obvious signs of physical injury.

"Shikamaru!" Sakura cried out. "It's about time. What took you so long?"

Her words caught the attention of the other surrounding ninja, eliciting similar greetings. Shikamaru greeted each of them back individually, before turning to us.

"You ladies having fun?"

There it was again. That infuriating teasing tone. Thankfully, Sakura responded for us, with a very unashamed, "As a matter of fact, we are… thanks very much, Shikamaru."

At last, his sharp eyes landed on me, and me alone.

"Hey, Temari."

All I could think was _I want you…I want you…I want you_  in a repetitive loop. Thankfully, my mouth knew how to function independent of my mind. "Hey, Shikamaru. Nice job on winning your battle – I knew you had it in you. I'm glad you're safe."

I hoped no one else would notice how intently we were staring at one another, but I couldn't help it. I wouldn't, couldn't, break my gaze as long as the shadow possessor willingly gave me his. He was mine, and never had I been more grateful of that fact than now, when he was standing before me – flesh, blood and all.

"Thanks," he smiled faintly. For a second, it seemed as if he wanted to say more, but didn't know how.

What was the proper balance of familiarity for us to strike in public? Now that we were in a "relationship" — a word I still tripped over — we seemed incapable of finding a middle ground between cold, professional public interactions and mottled, intense private engagements.

_Just say something… anything._

Unfortunately, my mind was trying to quietly and covertly erase everyone around us as if they didn't matter. _This is not good, not good at all._

A few more seconds and I would see and sense no one but Shikamaru. Who knew what I was capable of in that scenario?

But I just wanted to be closer to him in some way, no matter how small. My breathing was getting heavier and it was clear we had not spoken a word in nearly half a minute. My willpower was slipping and I had dangerously lowered by inhibitions with all that damn sake.

Regretfully ripping my eyes from his, I searched for a savior.

"Naruto!"

The blonde responded quickly by running over. I searched my mind for a topic that would keep the Leaf ninja talking and give me a chance to escape for a few minutes and calm my pulse.

"What was it you were telling me about the new jutsu you are developing? You were saying you think it will come in handy in future strategies against the Akatsuki …"

Sure enough, the exuberant blond began answering right away and excitedly.

With a small sigh of relief, I took a step backward and lowered myself to a plush red couch, hoping to put a little distance between myself and the intoxicating Nara. Unfortunately, Naruto – oblivious as always – did not act according to my plan. He followed me, pulling Shikamaru with him, and joined me in the slightly secluded sitting area.

 _Well, so much for that_ , I groaned inwardly.

Naruto seated himself in reverse on a wooden chair, leaning over the back. Shikamaru stalled a second, rubbed the back of his neck and then tentatively sat down on the couch, keeping a relatively safe distance between us.

I was glad for the thoughtful gesture, not because I wasn't anxious to be closer to him (I desperately was) but because I just couldn't handle it in this public atmosphere, full of its unspoken rules and restrictions. It would have been like giving a mere sip of water to a woman dying of thirst.

However, the Leaf chunin's seat selection didn't matter. Not three seconds later, Kiba had joined our group, and apparently didn't want to sit next to me.

"Scoot over, Shikamaru," Kiba commanded, interrupting Naruto's story and prompting a shrill shout of irritation from the blond ninja.

I realized there was only one direction for Shikamaru to move. _Damn_.

"Well, Akamaru needs room, too!" Kiba was saying in response to Naruto's outburst.

I wasn't really paying attention to their squabbling. Instead, I was thinking, _Damn… damn… Okay, Temari, you've got this._

I swallowed hard and kept my eyes glued in front of me as Shikamaru slid over, his body getting roughly pushed against mine so Kiba could sit down, taking up way more room than he and his dog comfortably needed.

 _Stupid, jerk_ , I thought, rather unfairly, since Kiba was not truly to blame for putting me in a situation he could not possibly know would make me wildly uncomfortable.

The left side of my body felt unnaturally alive; the parts molded against Shikamaru's, were smoldering. I was intensely aware of everything happening over there – the blood rushing through my left thigh, which was pressed against his; the warmth on the left side of my face; the tingling in my left arm. I must have looked like an idiot sitting there, too afraid to move in case someone could deduce our intimate relationship from any accidental interactions between our bodies.

I fought the urge to look at Shikamaru, but when I lost that battle and stole a glance, he happened to be looking back in the same instant.

I couldn't decide if I wanted to laugh or cry when our eyes communicated the same large degree of awkwardness and our mutual lack of ability to conquer it.

Nervously, I dropped my eyes to my lap and pretended to be very busy playing with my sash.

 _This is rubbish … so silly._  But even though I acknowledged the utter absurdity and puerility of the scenario playing before my eyes, I couldn't stop it from affecting me. I felt like a dumb grader-schooler, and I couldn't figure out why I wasn't better at handling this.

Between chiding myself for my foolishness, relishing the unexpected close contact to Shikamaru, and trying to remain as solid and still as a statue, I lost track of the conversation swirling around me like mist.

I might as well have been in a sauna, considering the heat I felt hovering over my body like a shield. I hoped I wasn't sweating. I hoped my skin wasn't beet red. I hoped I wasn't revealing the constricting tension as it pulled on me like knotted rope.

And yet… I just couldn't bring myself to move. Not when I had just gotten this close to Shikamaru.

"I'm going out for a smoke," Shikamaru blandly informed Kiba and Naruto, shattering my internal reverie.

My ears began to tingle anew, but I kept my eyes focused in front of me. Did he mean for me to hear that announcement?

Stretching as he stood up, the shadow possessor passed by me on his way out. I was certain his hand grazed my knee, but when I reactively looked up, he was running his fingers through his black ponytail.

 _What should I do?_ This didn't really count as a genuine, heart-wrenching conundrum but I felt very conflicted, nonetheless.

For some reason, I couldn't settle into the position of girlfriend and the rights that come with it. I still found myself constantly questioning whether or not Shikamaru loved me and enjoyed having me around.  _Has he even missed me?_

"What are you waiting for, Temari?" Kankuro whispered, none too quietly, as he sank to the couch beside me. "An engraved invitation?"

"What are you talking about?" I blushed.

My brother simply gave me a knowing look. "Don't play dumb with me," it seemed to say.

"Temari. C'mon. You've been talking my ear off about Shikamaru nonstop for the past two days -"

Aghast, I started to object, but Kankuro paid no mind. "You miss him. You know he misses you. He's obviously waiting for you."

"Shhhh," I quickly scanned to see if anyone was in earshot. Thankfully, Naruto had moved on. "You need to quiet down or someone will hear you. Unlike you, I prefer to keep my private matters just that – private."

All I got in response was a laugh. "Whatever you want. But you better hurry. Shikamaru won't be waiting forever."

It had only been a couple minutes but his warning caused me alarm anyway.

"Fine, fine. I'm going. But, for the love of the gods, lower your voice, you idiot," I slugged his arm and then stood.

My blood seemed to sink to my feet and sort of just pool there. Why was I so nervous?

"Temari," Sakura called to me as I was about to exit the building. "Come talk with us."

"Uh, I need a little fresh air… I'll just be a second!" I promised, smiling.

Breaking free from the increasingly raucous group, I rushed outside, frantically scanning the shadows to find Shikamaru.

Traveling away from the light spilling from the open doorway, I made my way down the dark street, quickly glancing down various alleyways and at trees, lampposts, any structure that provided the lazy chunin a resting place. Back and forth I paced in an inefficient zigzag formation.

"Where could he be?" I muttered.

Discouraged, I started retracing my steps, passing by the loud sounds filtering from party central. I headed down the opposite side of the street. I was about to give up when my legs stopped completely, not of their own volition.

As hyper-vigilant and frenzied as I was, an initial "fight" response shot through my body before I realized what was happening. … It had happened before, I thought with an agitated huff.

"Shikamaru." I growled the warning through gritted teeth. My head whipped around, searching for the source of the possession jutsu. "I swear, if you do not release me now, you fucking bastard…"

Still, my anticipation and the pressure of waiting had evolved to chaotic proportions, and I couldn't deny I was exhilarated as hell.

"Shikamaru!" I tried to keep my voice down and shout at the same time. "Fuck you, you stupid low-life. I will kill –"

My hoarse rant was cut short by a jeering chuckle and Shikamaru's hand over my mouth.

"My, my, my. You're in a good mood, huh, Temari?"

The words were whispered on my ear, the warmth sending a thrill straight to my pussy.

I was frustrated, ebullient, anxious, excited, charged… inebriated. I experienced each emotion individually and all together like an angry hurricane.

"Just so you know, Temari, you shouldn't drink so much or it leaves you very susceptible to attacks."

My body bristled. I both hated and loved it when he teased me. I wanted to spit at him or flip him off, but I couldn't.

"Did you miss me?"

My body was still in his jutsu, so I could do nothing but slightly shudder with arousal when he started kissing the back of my neck and shoulders.

"Let me go," I tried to say again, but with one of his hands still obtruding my lips, the words came out as indiscernible sounds. When he finally freed my mouth, giving me an opportunity to rail on him, his hand generously squeezed my breast, causing me to groan instead.

"I thought about this last night, on our way back."

I swallowed. What was it I had wanted to say to him? "Shikamaru…"

"I thought about you. On your back. Naked."

"Shikamaru…"

"I thought about licking you, kissing you."

"Nara..."

"I thought about devouring you."

"Let…me…" The words were absorbed by another groan. Oh, how badly I missed him.

"Well, Temari? You were about to yell at me. So… go ahead, fierce woman."

Damn, the boy could mock. He was the ideal personification of a taunt.

"Fuck you," I whispered.

"You should," he whipped back, without missing a beat.

"I will." It was more of a brazen oath than anything else.

I was released from Shikamaru's jutsu only to meet the force of his body pushing mine until I slammed against a chain-link fence. I didn't register pain. My mouth had hungrily covered the Leaf ninja's, moving furiously to keep pace with the blood rushing through every part of me.

Molding myself against his strong, slender body, I clenched his back as if my life depended on it.

"I missed you," I whispered fervently.

"You have no idea," he responded before claiming my mouth again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Although I know the manga has Ino ending up with someone else later on down the road, I'll always prefer her with Kankuro. And what else if fan fiction for if not to manipulate our favorite characters?


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